


shut your eyes and see (I'll always be with you)

by Emma_Swan



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: And the bowl of rocky road ice cream, Angst, Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fight for Lena's soul, Flashbacks to Lena's troubling childhood, Friends to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kara is a sad puppy, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Lena is smol but angry, Like bring your own candle because you're going to need it, Mutual Pining, Nerdy tech and brain stuff, Post season 4 reveal, Reconciliation, Slow Burn, The rocky road that Lena doesn't want to go down, Virtual Reality, season 5 fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 93,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Swan/pseuds/Emma_Swan
Summary: Finding out Kara is Supergirl doesn’t break Lena the way she expects. After all, she’s used to betrayal. But being alone, truly alone, is something she can’t seem to face. Filled with anger and heartache, Lena turns to the only thing in her life that’s always been there for her - technology. Submersing herself in the newest VR, Lena begins to lose sight of what’s real, and what matters the most.





	1. Chapter 1

“ _I thought that in light of recent events, people would be motivated to fight harder than ever for social change. And it seems like they’re all just hiding behind their gadgets. Technology makes escaping an addiction. What happened to the simple pleasure of greeting another person with words? No one is paying attention to what is actually happening in the real world. That is why we_ **need** _journalists, who are out there observing events, and reporting on the_ **truth** " – 

The echo of Kara’s Pulitzer speech remains in Lena’s head, even as she stands in the hallway across from her best friend.

Part of Lena wishes she could keep her honest opinion to herself and walk on, but it’s too late for that. 

“You talked about the importance of personal responsibility and engagement with the ‘real’ world,” Lena scoffs. “You claimed that people need to stop hiding behind their computer screens and take action, and yet you’ve been the one hiding your entire life from the woman you thanked profusely in your acceptance speech! You have the nerve to stand up there and criticize everyone else who wants to slip away into a world of fiction, when your life for the past three years has been a complete fiction.” She breathes raggedly as fresh tears form in her eyes. “ _At least, it has been with me_ —” 

Kara’s speech is long over, and Lena _never_ intended to give one of her own, but somehow between all of Kara’s smug schmoozing at the after party, and the excessive amount of champagne Lena’s consumed, it has come to _this_ – a moment where Lena breaks down entirely and rips Kara’s glasses off her nose.

_“Lena,” Kara had cheerfully called and held out her arms in expectation of a hug. “You were about to walk by without saying hello. Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”_

Lena has _nothing_ nice to say about the acceptance speech. She finds Kara’s words to be condescending at best, and in many other ways, takes it all as a personal insult. 

Her shrill voice carries her criticisms down the hall, and her glare burns through Kara like fire through paper – there’s no ash, no cinder, just a void. 

Kara stares back at her _emptily_ and without blinking, then sets her jaw in the tightest clench. 

“You might not be two different people, Kara Danvers, but you certainly have two faces. You are so two-faced – you used me in every way possible. You blended truth with lies time and time again, and I was so wrapped up in your beautiful story that I lost myself in it. I lost myself in you. But I know who you really are now. You showed me that tonight, when you went along with this whole pompous celebration. You pretend to be so unassuming and caring, but you’re just out for yourself.”

That gets a reaction, and tears well in Kara’s eyes, but Lena doesn’t stay behind to see them fall – instead she sweeps dramatically by and continues to walk until her feet hit the cobblestones outside. She wanders blindly down the street, and into the first dive bar she sees, which thankfully isn’t anywhere near the theatre where Kara’s just been applauded for her groundbreaking efforts in journalism. 

Lena treats herself to a double and kicks out a stool. She radiates an aggressive energy that she hopes will make the men at the bar avoid her. 

She drinks for several hours with a snarl on her red lips, eyes unfocused and a little scary when she heads into the bathroom to take in her appearance in the dingy mirror. Her face is paler than usual and her brows draw together. There’s a brief flash of hurt in her eyes that makes her want to drink more. To drown the pain and leave only anger behind. 

Anger is a productive emotion. It’s always enabled her to accomplish her goals. All of Lex’s many criticisms pushed her to do better. Every abuse she suffered taught her how to brave the nasty world. 

She remembers how often Lex deliberately provoked her to cry when she was five years old, just so he could demonstrate how little her tears did to soothe her. He would sit on the floor of her bedroom and give her tasks of rote memorization. If she failed, he either lost patience with her, or deprived her of his company. Otherwise, he forced her to go back to the easier lessons she had already mastered. More often than not, he tricked her just to make her _feel_ stupid. 

Try as she might, Lena can’t get rid of her terrible habit of crying, but tonight at least she’s only shedding angry tears. She runs her thumbs under her eyes to wipe the tears away and then returns to the bar. 

Just as Lena is having what she thinks will be the last drink of the night, a very stupid man stumbles up to try his luck with her. The moment he gets handsy, she grabs his wrist and twists until it breaks.

Normally she would have been able to handle all of this with her words, not resort to violence, but her fuse has been cut in half by her conversation with Kara. She’s also drunk, more drunk than she’s been in years, and it brings a fuzziness to her thoughts. It strips her very logical mind down to its barer, defensive components. 

The man shouts at her, and he’s drunk enough that he takes a swing with his fist that she easily dodges. Then she’s pushing back at him and it’s an all-out brawl. 

The police will be called in for this, Lena is certain. The man who started it all seems to have a girlfriend and she steps in to fight Lena. 

Lena feels a trickle of blood on her face, although she’s numb to every hit, and doesn’t feel the way the woman’s knuckles continually slam against the bone in her cheek. This physical pain can’t even begin to match what she’s dealing with emotionally — the pain that’s been inside of her for months as she continued to pretend to be ignorant of Kara’s true identity. 

Lena is too uncoordinated to fight back and goes down gracefully. She’s out of it for a while, but when she comes to again, she’s shocked that there are no police sirens, not a single sound except for the rushing noise of her pulse in her ears. It seems like everyone has left. 

There’s just one man in the bar, offering her a hand up from her heap on the floor. She’s too proud to accept the help, and gets up without any assistance. 

“Seems like you got yourself into a fight you couldn’t handle,” the man jokes with a bit of a sly grin, extending his hand now to shake. “I have to say, I really hope you don’t make a habit of that, Ms. Luthor.” He takes out a business card with bright gold and black lettering. “My name is Ryan Gunn. I work for Obsidian Tech and I was hoping to talk to you about a _very_ lucrative business deal.” 

A week later, Lena is testing out a sample of their product – a pair of lenses that will go on the market in the next few days.

Lena’s make-up covers all of her bruises from the bar fight, even if it won’t quite cover the more serious emotional wounds that are beginning to truly fester. 

_Kara must have heard the bar fight._

_She must have been angry so with Lena for ruining her night that she had chosen to ignore it._

Dwelling on the issue will just result in more tears, and while Lena might indulge the urge to cry over a glass of scotch later, she has business to attend to today. 

She opens the seal on the Obsidian Tech box, which came with a press packet, and a typed quote on clean paper: 

_“Shut your eyes and see” – James Joyce._

It’s an interesting choice, an excerpt from the novel _Ulysses,_ and Lena wonders about it for a little while, until she realizes that one of the lead scientists who invented the lenses is a man named Dedalus. So he shares the surname of the character from Ulysses who penned the poetic line. 

“Shut your eyes and see,” Lena mutters to herself. 

She runs her hand over the neat, white box and pulls the lid off. The instructions say to put the lenses on the middle finger and thumb, and insert carefully. Thereafter, the lenses can be activated with a simple scan of those fingertips. 

Following the process proves easy, and Lena immerses herself in the device set up for the better part of the afternoon and night. 

It’s around four in the morning when she realizes how long she’s been at it, distracted by data input and constructing her own little world. She turns off the device with a wave of her fingers and blinks around at the dull office around her, where the lights have long ago turned themselves off.

“Lena,” comes a fond little whisper in the darkness, and she throws a paranoid glance towards the windows at her back. 

_It’s not real._

Lex’s voice rings loudly in her mind, but it’s not actually him because he’s dead. 

She’s sweating her make-up off, and wipes a hand over her perspired face, then forces herself up from her office chair. 

While she hasn’t exactly been wracked with guilt over killing Lex, there have been plenty of moments like this one where regret suddenly overwhelms her, although hearing his voice is a new complication to it all. She obviously needs to get more sleep.

Stumbling over to her leather couch, Lena reaches for the blanket she’s been sleeping under lately. Then she shuts her eyes. 

When she opens them again Kara’s face hovers precariously close to her own, peering down at her with a crinkled brow of concern. 

_No, not Kara. Supergirl._

Without her glasses she looks more arrogant, wearing that cobalt blue suit, playing the hero. The sight of her is enough to bring bile rushing up Lena’s gullet and the bitter taste is almost as strong as morning coffee.

“What are you doing here?” Lena blurts, affronted by Kara’s proximity. “You have no right to barge into my office.”

“I’ve been worried.” Supergirl whispers in that soft way that has always felt familiar.

Lena knows why it’s familiar now, since she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. She’s played every moment of their friendship through her mind, just to calculate the number of times she should have known she was being deceived. 

_532._

It’s a staggering estimation, and Lena loathes how blind she’s been. “Get out.” She demands, sitting upright to sneer at the wounded look that crosses Supergirl’s face. She could get used to seeing that on her.

“Lena?” Supergirl pulls back and stands straighter, her blue eyes narrowing as her jaw hardens and she folds her arms resolutely. “You don’t mean that.” She concludes confidently, but there’s a stubborn jut of her chin, the only sign that she’s not so sure anymore.

“I always mean what I say, unlike you,” Lena spits callously, fixing her rumpled suit jacket. “You seem so unapologetic standing before me. The night I confronted you, I expected you to come after me. To talk, or at the very least intervene when I was too drunk to properly defend myself. But I suppose you felt I deserved the pain because I upset you.”

The purplish bruising on Lena’s face is partially visible under the faded makeup she never removed. She lifts her chin to show it off, catching sight of her reflection in the glass pane beside her. 

The lenses seem to have activated all on their own, changing her irises to an eerie blue, only for the flicker of a second.

“I’ve always kept my promise of defending you,” Kara argues, voice cracking, but still she doesn’t apologize, and makes no move to touch Lena or offer comfort. 

Lena thinks that even now, after all she has suffered, one gentle touch from Kara might be enough to soften her. 

Until Kara came into her life, Lena never understood how much she needs physical affection.

Still, Lena won’t allow it to happen. It wouldn’t be genuine, and her body needs to adjust to that fact sooner rather than later. 

“You didn’t stop Lex from torturing me,” Lena exhales heavily. She stands up, slipping her feet into her heels and gazing out the window. “Sometimes you save me, and other times you let me hurt. I’ve noticed a correlation. Any time I act in your interests, you put on your cape and come to my rescue. But the second I don’t behave myself, or go against what you want, then you stand passively by. All along, you’ve played my protector, but I know you’re also my judge. I can’t believe I allowed myself to be vulnerable with you when you must have been monitoring my every move all along — ”

“I wasn’t!” Kara splutters, dropping her hands from her hips and smushing her bottom lip into a frown. She seems like she’s on the verge of crying again, but in spite of the clear devastation on her face, she appears more shocked than anything – and completely uncertain as to how to proceed. 

Kara finds something to say a moment later, rolls it along the back of her tongue as if testing out how it tastes before finally breathing it to life. “When Lex took you I … I was out there looking for you every minute you were gone. I had the whole of the DEO searching with me. I would never just stand by and let you get hurt. How can you think that?” And it’s there that her voice breaks, that the mask of Supergirl slips and she’s simply Kara. Foolish, clumsy Kara, who trips over her own feet if Lena smiles at her a little flirtatiously, who blushes whenever she catches Lena biting her lip, and also has the habit of twisting at her fingers when she’s worried.

She’s twisting them now as she steps towards Lena, looking like a child playing dress up as she insists, “I can’t – I can’t be everywhere at once. I’m not a god.” She says, clearly pained by the admission and the bruises she can see that decorate Lena’s face like war paint.

“No, you’re not,” Lena states in a soft spoken voice that is still menacing. Her eyes penetrate, brutal and unforgiving as they trail down over the emblem on Kara’s chest. “You can hurt, too. You can bruise and bleed. I suggest you remember that, Kara Zor-El. I want you out of my life. If you don’t stay away, if you continue to try to force your lies down my throat, I will come for you. I’ll show you what it feels like to be human, and not just to pose as one.” She takes two threatening steps in Kara’s direction, pausing just shy of pressing into her. 

It’s then that Lena collapses, her eyes rolling wildly back and forth in her skull, the lenses lighting up with a flash of activity.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lena!” Kara cries. Her super reflexes make it easy for her to catch Lena before she even nears the floor. She’s flying them through the bright night sky without a moment’s hesitation, so fast that the wind chill causes small particles of frost to cling to her eyelashes where unshed tears are blown away. She clutches Lena so tightly that she might leave behind marks — soft pale greens of regret and desperation in the little half-moons of her fingerprints. 

When she lands at the DEO, Kara struggles to let Lena go. “I need help!” She yells and people rush towards her with a gurney and machines. 

Kara’s fingers are still curled around Lena, and that’s when it hits her — that this might be the last time she holds Lena, feels her warmth, knows the shape of her against her body. 

A strangled sob lodges in Kara’s chest like a shrapnel of kryptonite. 

Kara spins wildly, her words more scattered than dead leaves. “She — _she_ collapsed. She looked so — _her eyes were_ – ”

Before she can elaborate further, Alex is at her side and shining a tiny light into Lena’s eyes where the lenses are still glowing. “This is Obsidian Tech,” she announces with a perplexed frown. “We just purchased this for all of our agents. Apart from being a virtual reality gadget, it has other useful applications. Brainy’s even begun experimenting with his own add-on programs — ” 

Alex summons Brainy from his office, and he’s quick to point out the problem with Lena’s tech: there’s a subtle difference to it, one that must be hard to spot, but still a difference all the same. “This isn’t working like the standard product,” he succinctly explains. “It seems to be directing all of Lena’s neural activity. It’s exploiting the feed-forward connections in her brain. Disrupting it would be ill advised. It could cause very serious damage.”

“So what do you recommend we do to help her?” Alex demands, not at all content to leave Lena in her current state. 

“It would be the safest for her to come out of it on her own,” Brainy insists with a worried scrunch of his eyebrows, then glances towards the machines that the DEO staff have hooked up to Lena. “In the meantime, I can study her tech more closely and we can try to find out who made this modified version.” 

“We can’t just leave her like this!” Kara wails. Waving her hands around, she looks as lost as she feels when Alex reaches out to grab her arm. She grudgingly goes still, trying not to fall into hysterics as she voices all of her pressing questions: “What if it’s damaging her brain? What if someone did this deliberately? What if she’s stuck like this forever?”

“Unlikely.” Brainy states with a tilt of his head, and Kara sucks in a breath at the small comfort of his conclusion.

Brainy’s stolid expression doesn’t change as he glances curiously at Lena and adds lightly, “Humans won't survive in suspended states _forever._ She’d inevitably die.”

“ _Die_?” The word bursts out of Kara in an incredulous roar and she’s yanking her arm out of Alex’s grip as she stares with wide eyes down at Lena’s unmoving body. Kara’s chin is already quivering as she shouts at Brainy, “She can’t die, she’s – _she’s Lena_ — and this is – this is all _my_ fault.”

“You didn’t make the lenses.” Brainy remarks, voice soft, and looks to Alex to support his argument. “Besides, there’s a fifty seven percent chance that Lena will wake up as normal.”

Kara is stricken by those odds. Her lungs deflate silently as her jaw slackens. She finds no comfort in his calculations, and before she can say it, the DEO staff wheel Lena to the medical bay and Alex is dragging her along.

Alex’s focus stays on Kara, one hand protectively on her shoulder while they walk and talk together. “Kara, there are ways we can probe Lena’s mind if necessary, but right now we need to stay calm. She could come back out of it on her own if we give it a few hours. For now, let’s just discuss the possibility of an intervention. We’ll bring in Lena’s contact at Obsidian Tech for questioning, along with anyone else who might have been involved in modifying Lena’s lenses. I’m also going to ask Kelly Olsen to come in as a consultant. She’s an expert on the brain and she might have some ideas of what we can do for Lena.”

Kara can tell that Alex is being gentle with her, both by coming up with a plan that sounds reasonable and trying not to show how worried she truly feels, in case that makes Kara panic more. It does, but Kara hides her anxiety well as she grabs onto Lena’s hand. 

They assemble a small team to work on the problem, and after about half an hour, Alex goes to interrogate the Obsidian Tech staff, while Kelly sits beside Kara in Lena’s critical care bay. It's not even five o'clock in the morning, but already the DEO is alive with activity, most of it centered around recent alien-related threats rather than Lena's emergency.

Not far off, Brainy is watching them with a furrowed brow of fear, and alternately toying with another set of lenses. 

Kara stays put where she is, and no matter how many times Kelly suggests she should get a drink or a snack, she refuses to leave Lena’s side. Eventually Kelly stops asking, and they sit together in somber silence.

Brainy seems to think someone could _safely_ enter Lena’s virtual reality with minor adjustments of a pair of lenses and a third device that works a little bit like an algorithmic synapse. It would bridge Lena’s occipital cortex, or the vision areas of the brain, to another person’s prefrontal cortex, or the reasoning and thinking areas of the brain. “Although it’s not quite so cut and dry as all of that. The whole idea that there are designated areas of the brain for each task is a total fallacy,” Brainy concludes.

It’s too much advanced information for Kara to fully understand and she blinks quickly, her mouth open just enough to signal her confusion, but she appreciates that Brainy can break it down in more simplistic terms for a change. 

“The artificial synapse could work,” Brainy hums. “I have used a Bayesian predictive algorithm, one that is meant to prevent you from mixing reality with illusion, just as a failsafe. But Lena’s special lenses could still drive the predictions that your mind already makes, and maybe even hijack my device,” he mutters mostly to himself. “Her lenses are pushing their signal through the neural layers and causing constant beta waves. It's as if she's awake when she's in fact unresponsive. There is no telling if tapping into what Lena is seeing will also influence the higher order areas of _your_ brain, just the same as it is doing to her.”

Kara only half listens to him, because he continues to ramble about technicalities out loud, and Kelly’s at her elbow, watching her with both sympathy and curiosity on her face.

“What happened right before Lena collapsed?” Kelly asks.

“I went to check on her. We – we had argued,” Kara rambles, wetting her lips before biting on her lower one. Her hands are whooshing through the air again, as though desperately trying to reach for the words she wants to say. “I really let her down and—” 

It’s _too much_ to even begin to explain, and she can’t. Not really, not fully, and so she stops as the guilt floods her limbs and clears her throat. Kara crosses her arms, her head hanging shamefully as she murmurs under her breath, “We hadn’t really talked for months, and I was worried. But Lena – _well,_ she wasn’t happy to see me. She um — _said a lot of things_ — then she collapsed…” 

Sobs catch in the back of her throat, and Kara sniffs roughly, turning away from Kelly so the therapist can’t see her choke back tears.

Kelly’s eyebrows lift thoughtfully and she glances towards Lena’s pasty white face. “So, basically your conversation was stressful,” she considers. “We all have fight and flight reactions when our bodies are overtaxed, and when we perceive a threat — whether it happens to be a physical one or an emotional one. It seems like Lena wanted a confrontation with you, but it’s very possible that another part of her wanted the opposite — to escape. And isn’t that the purpose of the tech? To help the user escape?”

Kara’s frustration mingles with self-hatred — a volatile lava inside of her that leaves her jittery. Her limbs tremble from the force of it, and she’s suddenly a volcanic girl ready to erupt. She leaps to her feet to pace around the room before she lashes out. 

“So this really is my fault.” Kara says with a slight whine to her tone, a puppy about to howl in despair. “Well, then, I’ve got to fix this.” She snaps, brows furrowing as she glares at Brainy. “I have to do something, I can’t sit here any longer waiting for her to deteriorate.”

“There isn’t anything else you can do, Supergirl.” Kelly insists, and Kara huffs out a breath so hard that she accidentally freezes two-thirds of the desk and Kelly’s coffee mug. 

“Shoot.” Kara hisses, and hurries to check the damage she’s done. It’s there that she finds a box that another pair of lenses came in, and she touches a small card that shimmers under the frost. _Obsidian Tech’s marketing slogan._ “Shut your eyes and see?” She reads aloud, her face scrunching as she puzzles over the quote. “That doesn’t make sense,” she blurts in aggravation. “You can’t see with your eyes closed. Everybody knows that. It’s not how eyes work.”

“The quote is from Ulysses,” Kelly reports, attempting to lift her mug from the table where it’s sealed in ice. Ultimately she’s forced to give up on it. “It’s taken from a passage where the main character reflects on this philosophical idea that the mind _doesn’t_ see objects,” she explains. “Rather, the mind constructs its own idea of the objects, based on past experiences. We don’t see what is actually in front of us, but what we want to see.” 

Kelly’s attention drifts to the interrogation room where Alex must still be working. “The quote is a pretty appropriate way of describing the purpose of the tech,” she asserts, then peers back over at Lena. “I also think it speaks to how we cope after trauma.” It’s clear she’s reaching a little, and trying to turn the conversation in another direction to help Kara understand Lena better. “Sometimes, when a person has been through so much betrayal and pain, they can only see the worst in others. Even the people who would never want to harm them.”

The room feels like it’s spinning as Kara tries to wrap her head around this new information. Kara recalls the way Lena had been _so sure_ that she had left her to be hurt. 

There’s a cloying conviction in the back of Kara’s mind that she’s the direct cause of Lena’s collapse. She caused Lena enough pain to turn to this new technology instead of turning to her, and when she thought she was giving Lena the space she needed, all Kara had really done was convince Lena that she didn’t care. 

Now Lena is lost somewhere in a place she built to escape reality. _To escape her._

“She wants to see me as her enemy.” Kara finally admits, her voice as watery as her eyes. “I won’t let her. I can find a way to fix this.” She whispers, as though afraid Lena can hear her every word. “I _will_ fix it. I’m Supergirl.” She says it with such confidence that she almost believes it herself, but the way her fingers twist in the fabric of her skirt and the frequency with which her eyes keep flicking back to Lena’s pale face alerts everyone to the building hysteria within her.

“If Lena is in a virtual world, and the lenses are what get her there, why can’t I just join her?” Kara strides towards Brainy as though on a mission, and he’s quick to back away as she grits out. “Wouldn’t that be a lot easier than what you have in mind to do? Why can’t you just give me a pair, and _I don’t know,_ sync them up with hers?” She demands, the hard lines of her jaw getting sharper as she becomes more confrontational. 

“Because Lena’s not an iPod.” Alex barks, returning to the room with a less than jovial glow about her. She’s pissed, her skin a ruddy pink from anger, and she stops short next to Kara and tries to school her features into a more placating look.

Kara’s lips squash together, her chin jutting out petulantly as she sputters, “But if we leave her—”

Alex puts both of her hands on Kara’s shoulders and her eyes skip back and forth as if she’s deliberating, making a difficult decision for both of them. “If you go into Lena’s world, who’s going to protect this one?” she asks. “There’s a big threat brewing, Supergirl. The DEO doesn’t know what to expect, but we’re on high alert right now. We have been for weeks. I’m not saying that we give up on Lena, but the programmers from Obsidian Tech seem just as confused as we are about the modifications to her lenses. Our best option is to wait this out.”

With Alex’s clear stance on the issue, Brainy forlornly sets his work aside. 

“I should reach out to James before he leaves for Metropolis,” Kelly intones quietly, as if already preparing for the worst case scenario. 

“No, don’t,” Alex insists with a sweeping gesture, then stalks over to Lena’s bed. 

Lena’s eyes are cycling through a glow sequence, off and on repetitions that are oddly mesmerizing. 

The monitors by Lena’s bed fluctuate, and the stillness of the room shifts when loud, insistent beeps begin to echo around them. There’s a flurry of movement as they all race towards Lena in fear.

“What’s happening?” Kara yells, reaching to Brainy to shake him in panic. “Do something! She’s—”

“Kara!” Alex snaps, wrenching her sister's hands off of Brainy to direct her attention to the bed. Lena’s fingers are moving, tapping against the white blanket. Her head whips to the side, and the erratic sound of the monitors stops at once. “I think she’s waking up.”

Brainy exhales a soft breath and smooths his rumpled shirt down. He leans over the bed to peer at Lena’s face, then straightens up to eye Kara coolly. “I did tell you there was a fifty-seven percent chance.”

Kara ignores him, and all but shoves her way to the edge of Lena’s bed. “Lena.” She whispers, reaching for her hand before she can think to stop herself. “Are you okay?”

Lena groggily opens her eyes, and on instinct, swats Kara’s hand away. “Don’t touch me, Supergirl,” she warns.

Assembled before her are all of the people Lena has avoided, and confronted with their worried faces, she hurries to withdraw. She rips off the wires that hook her to the monitors and slides up from the gurney. “Why am I here?” she flatly drawls to Alex. 

“You collapsed in your office. You don’t remember?” Alex questions, with a hard stress line between her eyes as Lena simply glares back at her in askance. 

Lena won’t even spare a glance at Kara as she neither confirms nor denies what she can remember. “I have to go,” she rumbles out and struts to the exit without acknowledging Brainy, who seems to be bursting with other questions for her. 

“Wait!” Kara calls after her. The sound of her fast footsteps are heavy and loud, and she throws herself in front of the door, blocking Lena’s hasty exit.

“Please.” Kara whispers, wincing as she meets Lena’s glare head on. She can feel a crackle of tension building between them, an almost static energy ready to burst into streaks of lightning and strike her down. Lena’s lips curl upwards in a fierce sneer. “Lena you — _you can’t just_ —”

“I can,” Lena asserts and points to the door, jabbing her finger in the direction she intends to go. “I can leave, and I can choose to distance myself from you, because you are the one in the wrong here. My life has been one big set up — between you, all of my ‘friends,’ my brother, and traitorous assistants. _All of you_ quietly scheming against me. Now I’m taking back control.” 

Kara’s mouth opens and closes as she looks towards Alex, who can't hear the conversation but nods for her to move. She slinks to the side, but flounders as she makes one last attempt to get Lena to stay. “I’m trying to help you,” she brokenly conveys. 

“I don’t need your help.” Lena states dryly, her chin lifting so that she’s looking down on Kara with haughty disdain. She takes a step closer, backing her up against the door frame to hiss, “If you come near me again, I’ll contact my lawyers.”

It's a tamer threat than before, but one which still holds an echo of her previous threat of bodily harm. 

Kara watches helplessly as Lena sweeps out of the room, the sharp click of her heels fading the further she gets, until she’s finally gone and Kara sags into Alex’s arms.

“I’ve never seen Lena so angry.” Alex seems totally mind boggled by Lena’s behavior, and rubs at her sister’s shoulder comfortingly. “What’s going on with her?”

“I don’t know,” Kara whispers, feeling so sick from the lie that she pulls away and hunches over. “I don’t know, Alex.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Obsidian Tech press conference is already underway when Lena spots Kara weaving through the crowd, head down and tape recorder in hand. 

Kara gives a nervous little pull on her glasses and then risks a quick glance towards Lena, who pretends to be occupied with the presenters on the stage.

It’s only been a week, but so far, Lena has succeeded in avoiding Kara, even in situations when they might have crossed paths. She expects that today will be no exception and Kara will continue to stay away. 

From her vantage point at the side of the stage, Lena has the perfect view of the audience, and even though they aren’t speaking to each other, she can’t help but occasionally stare at Kara. 

Kara is wearing a hideous outfit – pastel blue pants that are too loose, and a sleeveless blouse that she must have selected to make herself seem more sophisticated. 

In spite of the deception, and the heinous fashion mistakes, Lena appreciates the sight of Kara – the curve of her biceps and attentive way she listens to the presentation. 

Seeing Kara reminds her of every time she comes across a favorite treat from childhood: she no longer has a taste for refined sugar, but every time she notices the sweets at the news stand, she feels nostalgic enough to _want_ it. She knows she won’t like it, and leaves it alone, but all the same there’s a pull to _try_ – to see if she will find the flavor even the slightest bit agreeable.

Lena misses Kara terribly, craves her on sight, but she also recognizes that her longing is for a person she will never again find palatable. 

And yet she’s giving Kara her full attention while Ryan Gunn drones on in the background. 

“We are excited to announce our newest product to you all, one that we think is a revolution in the tech industry, and will forever change how we interact with one another,” Gunn declares and beckons two of his assistants onto the stage, where they unveil the brand new lenses. 

“For years we have been talking about a master algorithm that can do it all.” Gunn gestures to the impressive display before him and the video clips that demonstrate the product’s capabilities. “This is our ultimate gift to mankind. It is a virtual reality and vacation from this dismal world, but its applications reach far beyond that, forever changing what it means to be human. This device is superior to any other device you own. It can sense your moods and react accordingly. Feeling down? Our tech knows what you need: your favorite song playing in the background, a kind word from a friend, an oceanic view. It is an artificial intelligence system that can deliver much more than a mere escapist fantasy. Our tech can act as intercessor for you, filtering out content from emails, handling your personal schedule, freeing up time in your day so you have more hours to dedicate to leisure and entertainment. It will even assist you when making tough decisions to make your life _completely_ stress free.”

The demonstration inspires awe in the audience and they all seem hyped about the product roll-out. There isn’t one person in the audience who holds back when Lara Valentin, the Vice President of the company, begins to hand out free items. 

“We want to thank our partner companies and consultants, without which this re-design would not have been possible,” Gunn declares, eyeing Lena meaningfully, and continuing on with his long list of thanks before his assistants scramble to field questions.

Lena expects Kara to seize the opportunity with a number of valid and incisive questions, but Kara’s approaching her instead. 

“You – _you_ were involved with this re-design! You helped with the modifications!” Kara sputters out in accusation, lips pressing together furiously and eyes wide with suspicion. “I know you don’t want to see me right now, and I have respected that, but this tech will do horrible things to people.”

“Please, it’s the _people_ that do horrible things,” Lena scoffs, remaining calm even in the face of confrontation. “I trust in technology. Not in people, not anymore.” 

“Yeah, sure, put your trust in a technology that made you collapse! Instead of all of your friends, who actually care about you—“ Kara rants, so worked up that her tape recorder flies out of her hand and breaks on the floor. 

Lena backs out of the conference room, and into the hall where no one is around to observe this unfriendly interaction. She doesn’t want to tarnish the reputation of the company she’s supposed to be helping, certainly not by arguing with an _employee_ in front of the press. “You people were never my friends,” Lena hisses. 

“Oh, sure, that’s why we were all terrified of losing you when you collapsed the other night!” Kara hysterically rants, not at all restraining herself now that they are alone together. “That tech did something to you, Lena!”

“It wasn’t the tech,” Lena softly argues, giving nothing away with her body language, even if her throat constricts and her eyes glisten traitorously. “I saw my doctor afterwards and that’s all you need to know.” 

“Are you sick?” Kara croaks out. Her features change entirely and she trembles in place, bursting with so much anger that slowly seeps out of her at the prospect that Lena isn’t well. 

“No.” Lena refuses to share more than that, to give any information to someone who is not only an ex-friend, but also an enemy now. She stands her ground, unaffected by Kara, who looks like she might grab her and force her into a hug at any second. 

Instead, Kara swallows, nods and stands down, ready to give up the fight and stop prying into Lena’s life.

On the one hand, it’s what Lena wants, and on the other, it _hurts._ There’s no reason or excuse for Kara to test the boundaries she put in place, and yet Lena suddenly feels very contrary, like she would rather shout at Kara than avoid communication with her forever. 

It’s a weakness to think like this, and it’s Lena’s lifelong desperation for love that makes her this way. She needs to remind herself that her good memories of Kara are not in any way to be trusted. Pulling at her own hands, she inflicts a little pain on herself with her nails, stabbing them into her palm. Pain is what she must associate with Kara now, even if her body longs to fold, even if she wishes on some level that she could go back to those days of ignorance when her safe place was in Kara’s arms. 

“I _still_ don’t trust the tech.” Kara cuts into her thoughts, throwing a wary glance towards the room where the press conference is ongoing. 

That little remark rips Lena right out of her nostalgic reflections.

“Of course you don’t!” Lena coldly growls. “You never trusted me or my intentions with any of my projects, which is why you not only surveilled me, but also posed as my best friend for so many years.” She slips her arms over her chest, not just to be standoffish, but to give herself a little tender squeeze. Tears might roll down her cheeks at any second if she isn’t careful, so now she is going to have to be extra brutal to Kara. “My technology has always done a lot of good, but you see _evil_ in all that I do—“

Kara shakes her head, but makes no effort to dispute the matter with Lena, because of a tremor rocking the building around them. 

If Lena has to estimate, it’s come from directly outside.

The quake breaks Lena out of her guarded posture to find steady footing, while Kara reacts instantaneously and zips off to investigate the problem. 

Lena eventually runs to catch up, spotting the danger before she comes in range of the door. Beyond the steps and the statues outside of the building, there’s a crater in the pavement, and two DEO vehicles that must have tracked the threat. 

There are armored aliens with laser bright eyes, and Supergirl zooms towards them, no longer in a conference dress but now in a skirt and cape. 

It’s then that Lena notices the couple from the bar, the two that ganged up on her, and her eyebrows tighten together in confusion as Alex blasts them with a stun gun. 

For a few months now, alien terrorist groups have been reacting to the xenophobic crisis with pinpointed attacks on the city, but this conflict feels different to Lena. 

It feels like it’s been orchestrated, with every move of the fighters looking like choreography instead of true combat. 

It’s a surreal experience, until three aliens surround Supergirl, and with long whips made of chain lightning, strike her down from where she hovers in the air above them. 

Lena darts forward on instinct, distracting them with her presence and shouting, long enough for her ex-friend to squeak away. 

It’s impulsive on her part, an involuntary reaction to seeing Kara’s life threatened, and one that costs her. An alien smacks Lena across the wrist with a whip, leaving a sizzling welt behind. 

Around her, the fighting intensifies to a crisis point, no longer a dance but a true death match. 

Agents swarm around Lena with weapons tuned to bring down the attackers. They jolt the three aliens into submission and slap special cuffs on them. 

Supergirl rounds up the worst of the offenders – a towering alien with a battle-worn face, and two high-powered fighters that brutalize several DEO agents. 

The DEO makes a number of arrests, while other alien enemies flee after leaving the city streets torn up, shop fronts broken, and lamp posts toppled. 

Hours later, when the streets have been cleared, and there’s been a press debriefing with speculation that Obsidian Tech is the target of the alien attack, Lena finds herself trapped in a room with Ryan Gunn, Lara Valentin, Alex and J’onn. 

Gunn explains the reasons why their Tech might help humans in their plight against dangerous aliens. It’s the only rationale he can come up with to explain the attack. 

Lena sits passively by without comment. 

Being in the presence of both Alex and J’onn only becomes unbearable when Valentin and Gunn finish answering all of their questions and depart.

“Lena, if you know of any reason why this tech might pose future problems for us, we would appreciate your cooperation in defusing the issues right now,” Alex says, interrupting Lena’s thoughts, and her ability to continue benignly staring at the wall. She’s clutching her red wrist much more tightly than she realized, pressing down on the skin where it burns, and she jerks around to face Alex with resentment as fresh as this new wound. 

“The Tech is designed to be an entertainment device, first and foremost, but you also are well aware that it can be used in practical situations and for many purposes,” Lena reports, her voice dull and chin sharp, waiting a beat for that information to absorb before she carries on. “You don’t have to worry about Obsidian Tech or L-Corp. It seems like you responded to the terrorist attack pretty quickly today, which leads me to believe you were _already_ waiting in the area, in case a problem should arise. Something tells me you weren’t anticipating it would be an alien attack. What did you think was going to happen at this press conference? Did you think I was going to announce my five year plan for world domination? That I would pull a typical Luthor?”

“Not at all,” Alex hurriedly states, fixing her with a perplexed look, and reaching out to touch her shoulder all too familiarly. “We were here to protect you. I brought in the DEO’s resources - but J’onn’s here too, and Kara, not to mention Supergirl. You really frightened all of us last week when you collapsed, and we wanted to be here to ensure this whole event ran smoothly. You don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to attending press conferences. There always seems to be an assassination attempt—“

Lena refuses to believe it’s as simple as all of that, since Kara openly confronted her earlier about the tech, but she remains silent and allows Alex to continue. She avoids J’onn’s worried face and focuses on Alex, but finds she’s no better off — that Alex is all worked up. 

“Lena, with all due respect, what has gotten into you lately?” Alex presses on, her brow wrinkling with lines of concern. “I mean, I understand that you’re still reeling from everything with your brother, but you’ve completely isolated yourself. You look like you haven’t been eating or sleeping, and I just chalked it up to your intense work ethic, but I’m starting to think that maybe something else happened to you, something our trauma team might have overlooked.” Her voice drops to a whisper, so that she won’t be heard by J’onn, who is standing a respectable distance away. “ _Did_ —“

“No,” Lena almost shouts, the syllable ringing too loud in the marble-floored room. It doesn't matter what conclusions Alex's come to on her own, since they are obviously wrong. “If you want answers, ask Supergirl.”

“I thought you had resolved the problems between you,” J’onn interrupts softly, stepping up by Alex’s side, and switching tactics with Lena in a way she finds uncomfortable. He has a reassuring presence as the elder of their little misfit group, and she hates that she can’t summon up the bitterness to get rid of him and Alex — to get out of this situation where she feels them offering pity, layering it on her like too many heavy blankets until it’s all so suffocating.

Kara pokes her head into the room then, glasses on her nose and press badge hanging from her neck. “I was hoping I could talk to Alex?” she asks, but Lena sees the excuse for what it is — Kara just wants to come in and gawk, and her total fixation is on Lena’s injured wrist.

“You can,” Lena breezily insists. “We’re through with our conversation.” 

She moves towards the exit without so much as a courtesy goodbye.

Lena regrets not being more diplomatic, if only because two days later, she arrives at L-Corp and J’onn is waiting for her on her couch. 

“I thought you and I could have a chat,” J’onn says by way of prefacing this whole little intervention. “Not about any of the citywide terrorist attacks, or your latest business or research endeavors, but about what you’re going through. I’m no longer with the DEO. I’m a free agent and that puts me in a unique position to be of help to you. If someone’s exploiting you, or you don’t feel comfortable involving a government agency for whatever reason—“

“It’s personal,” Lena admits, to stop him from going on and giving her the full speech he no doubt rehearsed with Alex, in order to probe her for more information. “I thought that it would be clear to all of you by now, but since it’s not, let me be blunt: I just want space.”

J’onn nods and clasps his hands over his stomach, but he stays put on her sofa. “In that case, as your friend, I want to make a humble request that you find someone to talk to about whatever’s going on.”

“Like a therapist?” Lena incredulously asks, one hand going briefly to her hip, until she stalks away to fill a glass with a finger of scotch. She knows she’s not making the smartest choice in front of J’onn, and that it will only give him more of an excuse to pry, but on some level she’s reeling from this chat. 

Of all of the people to suggest therapy to her, Lena never assumed it would be J’onn, someone who she only infrequently interacts with at games nights or during life-threatening situations. She can practically imagine all of her so-called friends sitting around and drawing lots, deciding who would be the one to take on this responsibility and attempt to bring her back into their fold. Among them, she pictures Kara, keeping silent for her own selfish reasons, not wanting to tell them that their whole con operation has been blown. 

“A therapist, a friend, anyone you trust to help you work through this difficult time,” J’onn calmly replies.

So, _no one,_ then. 

Lena takes a large gulp of her drink, shooting a sidelong glance towards the clock where she can see it’s not even noon yet. “Thanks, J’onn, but I think I’m coping just fine,” she hums. “I need to get down to the lab, if that’s all you wanted—”

J’onn sees himself out, and Lena is convinced that will be the end of it — except, several days later, she receives a formal looking envelope, containing a note with a government letterhead. 

It’s for an appointment with a therapist, to undergo a psychological evaluation and debriefing, following the incident with her brother, and the secret ops project on the Harun-el. 

Of course they would push for this, given Lena delivered the product but refused to do more than that. She had also declined several meetings and requests for follow-up reports, detailing her progress on the broader applications of her research. But she would be shocked if Alex hasn’t also somehow played a part in this arrangement, if this isn’t just another scheme that she can’t escape. 

The idea of forced therapy is what makes her lift both her middle finger and thumb and flick them over her retinas. 

Then she’s in another place, she _thinks_ — or is it the same place, deep down? 

_Is it like a nesting doll cracked open?_

She sees herself, much smaller, the tiniest painted doll among the broken shells of who she’s become. 

She can’t figure out if she’s looking at the doll from the outside, or if she’s standing wooden and stiff in its place. 

Maybe she’s just exhausted and sleeping off her drunkenness in her office right now, and not in fact immersed within her virtual reality – her exit from the pressures of her life. 

In any case, all of these thoughts throw her into a memory, in which she actually is like a small painted doll. 

She’s in white stockings and a dark, stiff-collared dress, holding tightly to the hand of a lanky framed and cunning older boy. 

He’s taken her to the lakeside, where one summer she had cried and refused to swim. 

“Lex, why are we here?” Lena asks, and fear grips her heart as she stares out at the shallow water. 

“Go in, Lena,” Lex persuades and gives her a push to the edge, where her tiny buckled shoes get soaked in water. “You have to conquer your fears, or they will destroy your mind.”

“It’s _cold,_ ” Lena whines, teeth chattering, but unable to stop him from steering her in knee-deep. Her feet stick in the mud and she tries to get free of him, but he’s far too determined to break her of this phobia. 

“What will all of your friends think at summer camp when you’re too afraid to swim? No one will like you,” Lex reasons and firmly pushes her in up to her waist, until she lifts her feet and paddles, wetting her hair and face. 

“I don’t care! _I don’t want friends!_ ” Lena cries, hacking on the water and coughing violently, inhaling big gulps every time she opens her mouth. “I don’t want friends! I don’t want them!” 

Lillian comes running down the shore, shoving Lex aside and gathering Lena up in her arms and jacket. “Lex, what could you possibly have been thinking?” she snaps, as she smacks Lena on the back so hard that she expels some of the water she’s swallowed. 

“Fear exposure, mother,” Lex replies, furrowing his brow as if he can’t quite understand why Lillian’s upset with him. “I’ve been reading all of the works of the great psychologists and I felt it would be best to help Lena over her deep fears of the water. It seems like I’ve just replaced one fear with another, though.”

“ _I don’t want any friends!_ ” Lena wails miserably, clinging to Lillian’s shoulders in a way that clearly bothers her new mother. 

Lillian seems to want to hold Lena at arm’s reach, unsure of how to comfort her in this moment of terror. 

“Well, don’t you worry about that, dear,” Lillian muses, continuing to pat Lena roughly on the back. “You’re a Luthor, and Luthors don’t have friends.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lena wakes up with the distinct impression that she’s had a one night stand, and when she sits up in bed, she realizes that she’s in a different hotel room at the Baldwin. 

It’s hard to piece together the events that led to this point, but she knows too much scotch played a hand in it - that she had left work the night before, decided to spend some time in the hotel bar, and that instead of going straight up to her room afterwards, she flirted with a blonde who reminded her a lot of Kara. The dorky glasses, the button-up and trousers, and nervous laughter were all enough to catch Lena’s attention. 

She thinks she can deal with the shame of facing the stranger just to get a better glimpse at her face and confirm how far she’s fallen into self-destruction. 

The shower is running in the bathroom, but just as Lena is raking her fingers self-consciously through her hair, and rubbing her teeth with her finger, her phone dings and a reminder for her therapy session pops up. 

She silences the phone and rushes out of bed, putting on the suit and slacks she wore yesterday and stepping into designer shoes that taper in a four inch heel. 

Try as she might, Lena can’t get the little snags out of her hair without a brush, and there isn’t enough time to worry about it, not when she has an appointment in fifteen minutes and it will take that amount of time in travel. 

Twenty minutes later, Lena flings open the door to a spacious office with plants and book shelves, and Kelly Olsen’s name plate resting on a hard oak desk. 

Kelly’s at her laptop, typing away at a report, and Lena clears her throat before sitting down in the comfortable chair across from her. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve been assigned to me,” Lena huffs out. “Well, let’s get this over with so I can go to work.”

Kelly eyes her and shuts the laptop, swiveling the chair around and folding her hands over the top of the desk. “I know you don’t want to be here, Lena, so we can just sit in silence if you want, and I’ll fill out the evaluation forms as though you’ve given this session your all.” 

Lena narrows her eyes in suspicion, then sucks at the inside of her cheek as a dimpled and disingenuous smile breaks across her face. “What did I do to get on your good side?” she asks.

“Well, I haven’t known you that long, but you have a lot of friends that care deeply about you. Let’s just say they have the best intentions, but no one should be forced to attend therapy.” Kelly taps the desk in front of her, knuckles down and then she reaches for a pair of reading glasses and a stack of forms. “I would just appreciate it if you stayed here for the remaining duration of your session.”

“No, _wait_ — I mean, you shouldn’t lie for me.” 

It’s too much of a risk to accept this free pass from Kelly. More of a risk than going through the actual session. In the event anyone finds out about it, Kelly’s license could be at risk and Lena certainly knows there will be unforeseen repercussions for her. “Ask me whatever questions you need to ask me,” Lena insists. “Do whatever you would normally do.”

Kelly chews on one end of her reading glasses and finally, after Lena glares at her and flicks her wrist to indicate she wants to proceed, the therapist grabs for a pad and pen. 

“You need to prove I’m not an enemy of the state,” Lena considers aloud. “And if I can’t participate in this session, then I’m sure on some level that will raise concerns.” 

Lena’s aware that she’s filling the silence now, while Kelly sits back and takes in her appearance. 

Kelly’s scrutinizing the side of her neck, and Lena rubs her fingers in the spot, only to bring up streaks of pale lipstick, a softer shade that Kara might wear. 

Lena can’t help the blush on her face, but she tries to force herself to remain solemn and relaxed. She presses her hands into her lap and crosses her legs, primly sitting and waiting for whatever might come.

“How have you been coping with your brother’s betrayal of the United States government?” Kelly asks bluntly, and Lena can see for the first time how she would have been as a soldier, stern and focused in her uniform. 

Kelly’s history in the army is probably why she had been chosen to do this debriefing. Lena now thinks it is a small mercy that Kelly is here, and that no one in the government had deemed it a conflict of interest. 

“My brother didn’t just betray the government,” Lena emphasizes, twisting one of the rings on her finger as she fights a wave of anxiety. “He betrayed _me._ ” 

There is also the fact of her collusion — how she helped Lex, in spite of the danger he posed. 

Lena considers how Kara might use that knowledge against her in the future — how she could go to jail for her involvement if anyone else discovers the truth of the situation. She assumes Kara won’t ever expose the truth, if only to protect her own identity. Lena could decide to retaliate and expose her in kind.

“Have you, since Lex’s sudden disappearance, been in contact with him?” Kelly asks, enunciating each word and keeping her tone neutral.

“No,” Lena states honestly. The morbid memory of Lex’s vacant, glassy eyes almost shakes her. There’s a choking sensation in her throat and she flutters her eyelashes to ward off any possibility of tears.

“Do you ever have flashbacks related to your brother’s betrayal, and your capture and assault?” Kelly inquires, softening from her professional posture like she might be thinking about reaching across the table and squeezing Lena’s hand.

“Yes,” Lena quietly admits, and for the first time, she breaks eye contact and looks at a small cactus that sits on Kelly’s desk — it’s slightly crooked, growing in a painted pot with blue skies and a brown landscape. She thinks about reaching out and grabbing it like a stress ball, not just until all of the needles embed in her hand, but until she overcomes the pain of it and squashes it to pulp in her fist. 

“How often would you say these flashbacks affect you?” Kelly murmurs, watching her stare at the plant as if guessing at Lena’s peculiar train of thought.

“Daily,” Lena succinctly replies, fingers twitching so that she has to pull at them and stop them from acting on strange impulses. She attempts to change her pattern of thought, to redirect her energies towards her work. 

There’s still the matter of appointing a new CEO at CatCo. James recently put in his resignation letter and she’s not sure there’s anyone at the company prepared to step into the role. 

It’s also possible to sell the company, and Lena needs to make a final decision about it today, because she’s neglected the problem for too long. It will cost her soon enough if she’s not careful. 

The logical answer would be to promote Kara and then all but disappear, leaving the company’s total operations in the hands of her ex-friend, but what would happen if Kara publishes a lot of negative stories about her? Especially with Kara’s attitude towards Obsidian Tech, and all of Lena’s other current business undertakings, Lena can’t afford to risk it. 

“Lena,” Kelly repeats for a third time, and Lena snaps back to attention. “I lost you for a minute there, didn’t I?” 

Lena nods at that, seeing no reason to lie, not when it’s so obvious she’s checked out. “I was thinking about work,” she confesses. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Kelly blinks, and although she’s such a consummate professional, Lena can tell she’s surprised. 

“I realize I don’t cope with my problems in the way that everyone else might,” Lena laughs, not happily, and places both of her hands on the arms of the chair in an effort to appear more at ease. “Throwing myself into my work is constructive, at least.”

“Would you say any of your coping mechanisms are the opposite? _Destructive_?” Kelly sees an opportunity and exploits it - Lena will give her that. 

Drinking too much and having frequent meaningless sex are top of the list for Lena’s recent self-destructive behaviors. 

“I don’t know.” Lena’s vague response somehow makes Kelly react more than disclosing the truth probably would. 

“That’s the first time you’ve lied to me today,” Kelly softly points out, and leans back in her seat as if re-assessing Lena as a person.

“I wouldn’t call it a lie. I have some bad habits, but don’t we all?” Lena gets a bit defensive now, and perches at the edge of her own seat in the hope that she will be dismissed soon. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

“I think I can write my report based on what you’ve already said,” Kelly frowns, and Lena finds herself staring at the beauty mark on the therapist’s face, really looking at her features more closely and comparing Kelly to her brother, James.

Lena gathers herself up to go and extends her hand across the table, shaking Kelly’s firmly before she leaves.

“If you ever want to come see me again, please don’t hesitate,” Kelly says in parting.

Lena’s lips pucker together in a sour expression before she can stop herself, and she squints a little dismissively at the offer. “Thank you,” she whispers.

She rushes into the lobby, eager to get to work, and collides headlong with Kara — whose wounded look hits her harder than the impact itself. “What are you doing here?” 

Lena’s irritability has skyrocketed after the therapy session, and coming in close contact with Kara only gives it an extra boost. 

Kara’s styled her hair differently today, with her new bangs combed straight, the same way that a child might wear them. 

“I have an appointment.” Kara seems reluctant to admit it, and sways in place, gripping the frame of her glasses and ducking her head, as if expecting Lena to lash out. 

It stills all of the air in Lena’s lungs when she realizes that she’s formed two fist with her hands at her sides. “An appointment?” she croaks out. “You mean with Kelly?”

Kara nods, blinking fast and averting her eyes, trying to do all she can to shy away from Lena. 

It’s strange how much more vulnerable Kara has always seemed than Supergirl, how truly small in comparison — at least when _upset._

Kara’s smiles and laughter, on the other hand, always make her whole face light up, and there’s a security Lena used to feel when basking in her happiness – a security on par with being in Supergirl’s arms. 

“How is your injury?” Kara asks, glancing fleetingly at the place where Lena’s burn should be — only it isn’t there for a few daunting seconds. 

“Healing up nicely.” Lena hears herself speak, but her own voice also seems separate from her body — as if it’s echoing back at her from somewhere else, a time and a place where she’s already given this answer. 

There’s a searing pain in Lena’s skull all of the sudden, a cacophony of noise and Kara’s shout is the loudest of the sounds, begging her to focus and _listen._

“Lena?” 

It’s unsettling, the way Lena gazes dead ahead at Kara, and sees her exactly as she was on the night she received her Pulitzer, all done up in make-up that she’s crying off—brows scrunched in grief as she shuts her eyes and tears drip down both of her cheeks. Kara’s lips work in the shape of an apology, the first syllable on her tongue while she shakes where she stands. The huge pearl earrings that Kara must have borrowed do very little to make her look mature, and the fitted pale blue dress is all wrong on her. It’s not Kara’s personal style, it’s just another kind of disguise she’s wearing for the public. 

For a mixed up moment, Lena thinks of her one night stand and pictures the woman in Kara’s dress, standing-in like a body double, wearing the many costumes that Kara has worn. _Was it Kara she slept with?_ Why is that even a question in her mind?

Kelly steps out of her office, arms braced over her chest as she peers at Lena. “Everything okay?” she asks. 

The sounds of an argument and struggle still buzz in Lena’s ears and she takes two staggering steps away from Kara. 

On one side of the lobby, Kara and Kelly are talking, and Lena’s holding her hand out as if to tell them to hush. 

She wants to hear the other voices, and it startles her that she can recognize them now – the deep baritone of her father and the calculating, softer replies of her mother. Behind her, she can still see Kara, but ahead of her is the cherry wood staircase in her childhood home, gleaming with a fresh coat of polish. 

“You’ve exposed Lena to situations that she’s far too young to understand,” Lillian complains, and if Lena leans over the bannister far enough, she can just see her mother’s flaring nostrils and her steely eyes. “She was with that boy again, that _Taylor,_ and only half-clothed. She’s not even fourteen years old and she’s sneaking off with him! But maybe that isn’t your fault, after all. Maybe it’s just that she takes after her birth mother, the loose woman that she was—”

Lionel comes to Lena’s defense in an instant, grabbing Lillian by the shirt and backing her up against the door. His hand curls in a fist, but Lillian catches it before he strikes her. “Don’t ever speak like that,” Lionel warns darkly. “Don’t you say a negative thing about her.”

Lex comes out of his bedroom and stands at Lena’s side – another silent observer to the fight. “Mother is pushing to send you away to an all-girls boarding school in the fall,” he calmly hums. 

He seems unaffected by the physicality of the ongoing dispute downstairs. He’s wearing a heavy knit sweater that one of his peers has given him for the holidays, and which Lillian has already laughed at and deemed sentimental. Lex has been acting like the gift is from an adoring fan, nothing more and nothing less, and he puffs up his shoulders cockily. 

“I’d rather stay here,” Lena whispers and tries not to slouch in front of Lex, in case he criticizes her for it. She can sense he’s on the verge of lecturing her, and he guides her away from the stairs and back in Kara’s direction. 

“Listen, sis, I have always been one to express my honest opinions with you,” Lex remarks, fondly spinning her globe as he enters her bedroom. He glances around and seems to take in the way the space is changing: along with all of her books and space posters, there is a silver kit with make-up and an unusual pile of clothes on the floor from when she dressed in a rush earlier before sneaking off to see her friends. “I know you’ve recently formed an infatuation with Taylor Ingram, but he’s a little _weasel_ and I don’t like him. He’d better not be pressuring you to engage in any adult activities,” Lex spits out. “You should probably wait until marriage — or failing that, at least until after you develop breasts.”

Lena smacks him on the arm for that and he laughs at her feeble shows of aggression. 

“Get out, Lex,” she demands, ignoring the way he continues to chuckle by shoving him towards the door. 

He disappears back into his own bedroom and Lena spins around to face Kara, who’s still staring at her, bewildered and frozen. 

Kelly’s hand is on Lena’s back, and she’s gently urging her into the office. “Lena, I think you should sit down for a few minutes,” she encourages. “You look a little — um —dazed and over tired.”

Kara follows two paces behind them, and all of the sudden Lena is sitting back in the chair in front of the desk while Kelly fetches a little paper cup of water for her. 

Lena drinks the water, resenting Kara’s presence in the confined office, and how Kelly stares at her as if totally re-thinking what she should write on the forms about Lena’s psychological state. 

It’s a tense environment, and Kara is itching to speak to her, perched on the edge of the nearby window seat and leaning forward into Lena’s personal space. 

“Thank you for the drink,” Lena mumbles and places the empty paper cup on Kelly’s desk. 

“Is there someone I can call for you?” Kelly wants to know, and she leans against the side of her desk to be nearer to Lena, to give the illusion of privacy. 

Lena’s willpower isn’t strong enough to keep her eyes from straying to Kara, and the gleam in them dulls when she mutters, “No, my car should be waiting for me.” She slides up from the chair and nods at them both, if only to observe polite formalities, then she races out of the office as fast as her legs will move.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied violence in one of Lena's flashbacks.

It’s almost two in the morning when Lena gets back to the hotel after leaving her office. Kara stays two steps behind, but trails after Lena inside the darkened bedroom.

They don’t speak to each other, and Kara has the good sense to maintain a respectable distance while Lena pours them both a glass of wine. Lena takes her own glass into the bathroom with her. 

She soaks for a long time in a neck-high bubble bath with a damp wash cloth over her face. Candles line the tub, flickering away and burning the scents of jasmine and orange blossom into the air. 

As her fingers begin to wrinkle from water exposure, Lena tosses the wash cloth away. She pinches out one of the dwindling candles with her fingertips and blindly reaches for the glass of red wine she’s left on the tiled floor. “Kara?” she calls. 

Kara steps into the room with a fluffy bathrobe, and Lena rises from the steamy water, allowing it to roll down her body in full view. Rivulets drip from the ends of her hair, where a few strands stick to her shoulders and breasts. She steps out of the tub and onto the carpet, but still she stands back from Kara, who holds the robe open for her. 

“Come on, Lena, let me take care of you,” Kara whispers. “You think you need to give into the pain right now – that it’s your only defense – but we both know that _I_ can make it better.”

_Kara isn’t in her bathroom right now._

This is all an escapist fantasy, yet it still feels real when Kara places the robe on Lena’s shoulders and gently dries her hair, then leads her off to bed. 

They lie down facing each other and Lena studies Kara’s face - the pure, hopeful face which stares so earnestly back at her, both an absolute torment and comfort to her. 

Twisted ideas go through Lena’s head — of fighting with this figment of her imagination until they are both bruised and bloodied, or stripping Kara of her clothes and fighting it out in a different way. 

Instead she just stares and tucks a loose strand of blonde hair behind Kara’s ear. 

“ _Lena_?” Kara suddenly gasps out, glancing around in confusion and awareness, so unlike how she had been calmly lying there a moment before. “ _We_ — why are we in your bed? Never mind, not important, look — we have to talk. I know how much you’re hurting. I know I did this, and I don’t deserve your trust anymore, but please — you’re in so much danger right now and I need you to believe me. I need you to _listen_ and not push me away. I’ve been trying to get through to you, but you’re so closed off, it’s impossible—"

Lena groans at the speech and blames her own over-active mind for how much it really _does_ sound like Kara. “I don’t want to talk about what you did tonight,” she rumbles moodily. “I just want one night of peace, one night where I don’t cry myself to sleep. Is that too much to ask?” 

Kara’s face crumbles, and then tears glisten in her eyes as she gives a quick shake of her head. “No,” she mutters and extends her arms to Lena. “No, it’s not too much to ask, Lena, c’mere.”

Lena does — she fits her body in beside Kara’s, and finds a spot for her head on Kara’s shoulder, and then all of the anguish and deep-rooted tension goes out of her. 

Kara glances down at her, holds her close and strokes her hair. She presses a gentle kiss into the crown of her head. 

“I’m going to hold you all night, Lena. I’ll be right here,” Kara softly whispers. 

Lena nestles into her and breathes Kara in, the aroma of fresh air, and a perfume too light to identify — it’s such a clean and soothing scent. 

“It’s hard to live like this,” Lena admits. “At least before we met, I didn’t know what friendship or love felt like. Then again, maybe I’ve never truly known — but I thought I knew. I _really_ thought you loved me.” 

Kara lets out a quiet, strangled sound. “I do! You’re my _best_ — my best friend,” she insists. “I should have been brave enough to tell you, not just about who I am. . . but how I feel.” Her voice tapers off without finishing that thought and she sniffles. “For a hero, I was weak. I was too afraid to take that risk. There was a lot at stake.” 

While drawing stars with her finger all over Lena’s back, a constellation that spans down her spine, Kara whimpers out a quiet request. “Try to sleep now, Lena. You really need it.” 

Lena’s heavy eyelids drift shut, weighed down by too many days of sleep deprivation and Kara’s gentle caress. 

It’s a cruel thought that keeps Lena on the edge of wakefulness — the thought that this could have been _real._

If only Kara had been honest, it would have hurt less to hear it from her — and they could have moved beyond it. Their relationship could have grown stronger, but instead the lie dismantled her world, and now all Lena can do is rebuild, surround herself with these temporary shelters until she learns how to survive again. 

“Rest now, Lena. You need the rest,” Kara says in a hushed voice - different, somehow flatter. 

The next morning, Lena is alone in bed, and she doesn’t see Kara again until she arrives at CatCo. Lena’s dressed in typical business attire – a pencil skirt and red silk blouse, and she’s pinned her hair up in a tight bun. Her heeled boots loudly announce her presence to everyone. All of the heads of the departments have already gathered in the conference room, and Lena strides inside to greet them, with Kara squeaking through the door last. 

“I’m merging CatCo with Obsidian North,” Lena explains while standing at her usual place in the front of the room. “As you know, I have entered into a partnership with the tech end of their company. Obsidian North has historically just handled their PR, but they want to expand further into the realm of media, and I’ve decided it’s in our best interest as a company to take on some additional help around here.” 

Lena gestures to the door, where two of Obsidian North’s finest are waiting to be introduced. “This is Andrea Rojas and William Dey. They both have extensive experience in marketing and media, and they have a great vision on how to shape CatCo. I would like you all to give them a warm welcome, as I’ll be turning over the ground operations to them effective immediately. I will still be overseeing and directing the growth of the company, but my role here will be much different now. I hope you are all excited for these changes, and view this as a wonderful opportunity to take CatCo in new directions.” 

Lena gives her staff the chance to ask questions, to get acquainted with the new leaders she’s appointed, and to chat about the upcoming interests of each department. 

It’s a long meeting that goes on for half the day, and by the end of it, she expects no one should have anything left to say — but she’s not exactly surprised that Kara storms out and boards the elevator with her when she’s on her way down.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave? And put two total strangers in charge of CatCo?” Kara raves, and she’s bold enough to smack the emergency stop button on the elevator when it’s midway through its descent. ”The more I learn about Obsidian Tech, the more I don’t like the company. Why are you getting into bed with them?”

Lena laughs darkly at that, with glittering eyes that convey her rage. “Who I get into bed with is _none_ of your business,” she snaps. “You should feel lucky that I don’t fire you with your track record of poor attendance.”

“It’s come to that now? Threatening my job?” Kara fumes, no longer sad and reserved, no longer willing to back off and give her space. 

“You think that wouldn’t be justified, seeing as how you’ve also just trapped me in an elevator?” Lena’s voice and blood pressure are raised, her hands on her hips, and she would love nothing more than to truly succumb to her anger. But she’s better than that and she swallows down the hurtful words she wants to say to Kara. “It’s not only that. Because of you and the DEO, I was forced to attend therapy. After that embarrassing incident in Dr. Olsen’s office, I have no doubt at all that I’m going to be mandated to undergo future psychological evaluations. Add that to your list of your recent insults and injuries!” 

“That wasn’t my doing, Lena,” Kara assures her, both hands up as she makes a case for herself. “It came as an order from a higher branch, but the DEO pushed it through because Alex is worried about you. You haven’t returned any of her calls. I don’t understand why you’re taking this out on _everyone else_ when the problem is between you and me.”

“They lied, too!” Lena blusters, eyes wide with disbelief that Kara would try to absolve the rest of her friends. 

“Alex didn’t know that I was Supergirl for a few months,” Kara blurts and reaches out to smack the button on the elevator, which she has been guarding from Lena. “We blocked it from her memory. She only figured it out again when I almost died. It was safer for her when she didn’t know. It was safer for you, too, Lena.”

The elevator sinks, along with Lena’s mood, and she steps back to grip the handrail. “Safer? I am _constantly_ in danger. That’s the whole reason we even met, and why Supergirl has been just as much of a fixture in my life as you have been! You can’t use safety as an excuse! You simply didn’t trust me, and you wanted to use me. All of my work, all of my professional and personal contacts. You took everything I had to give. When I wasn’t helping you with a story, you disappeared on me as Kara, and even after I proved myself to you over and over again, you continued to find fault with me as Supergirl. I _never_ mattered to you, and even now I don’t matter. You’re only having this conversation with me because you’re worried about your future at Catco. Rest assured, Kara: your position here as a reporter is secure. Now, get out of my way.” 

Head held high, Lena strides from the elevator without glancing back, but she stumbles in her heels as soon as she’s out of Kara’s sight. She presses a hand against her diaphragm where a sob is trapped, and then steps into the quiet coat room in the lobby. 

If Lena continues walking to the exit now, Kara or someone else might see her cry in public. Her nostrils flare and she steels herself, wiping her face clean of tears twice before she walks out of the coat room.

Lena dashes through the lobby, and finds Kara waiting for her outside of the building, ready to pick up where they left off. 

“I’m _not_ sorry for lying to you!” Kara says almost in a shout, and she’s trembling all over, jaw quaking with so much pent up emotion. “I had my reasons. It’s not because you’re a Luthor, or because I wanted to protect you, or because I selfishly wanted to be normal with just _one_ person in my life! I lied to you about my identity for so long because I didn’t think you could handle the truth! It turns out I was _right_ about that, because you’ve shut everyone out, and we can all see that you’re falling apart!” 

Lena is taken aback by the outburst and can do nothing but stand there and endure it. 

“You are so sensitive, Lena, and believe me, I understand why,” Kara stresses. “I know that for most of your life you’ve felt like you’re utterly alone, but that’s not how it is anymore. You have a family now. You have all of us, and if you really want to stay away, we can’t stop you. But I am here for you and I’m not backing down anymore. Fire me, get your lawyers to put a restraining order in place, I don’t really care what you do. I’m not going to slip quietly out of your life. I’m fighting for you, for this relationship, and if that means fighting _with_ you too, then so be it.” 

These are the first words that make a difference to Lena, but they aren’t enough to chip away at the ice, let alone melt her glacial exterior. She’s a little self-righteous in her fury and crosses her arms, but finally throws her hands up at Kara. “Fine, if it’s a fight you want, then you’ve got it,” she asserts. “Humans, aliens — we are all so combative, so fundamentally flawed in design, aren’t we? You don’t understand my perspective, I certainly don’t believe yours, and so what is the logical outcome? Not to go our separate ways peacefully, but to make one another miserable.”

Kara cocks her head at Lena, uncertain how to react to that. “There’s a third option,” she huffs, beckoning her away from the building. “Just get lunch with me, talk all of this out, help me to understand what you’re feeling, and I’ll help you to understand me, too. It doesn’t have to be a fight, or a total wall of silence between us.”

“You want me to go to lunch with you and _chat_?” Lena laughs cynically at that and tears burn in her eyes as she thinks back to the last time they did lunch: smoothies and quinoa salad shortly before a cycling class, when she had still been in a relationship with James. 

It opens her up to other memories of how Kara encouraged _that,_ knowing full well that they had all been keeping secrets from her – that James, on some small level, had always looked down on Lena while also sleeping with her. 

Lena is sick all over again from the mind games and personal entanglements, and it makes her feel dirty, used in a different way, because Kara had stood by and allowed it to go on. 

“I have another meeting at L-Corp in half an hour,” Lena says. Not the most incendiary option, but just an excuse to get her out of lunch. 

“I’ll bring it to your office,” Kara quickly suggests, not one to be put off by a possible obstacle. 

“No, Kara, the answer is no.” Lena declines firmly, but when she turns to leave, the impossible happens: Supergirl swoops down from the sky and carries her off like a vulture with prey. 

Kara is still standing down below, and Lena’s too startled to do more than scream and hold on.

She’s on the balcony of her own executive office minutes later, with Supergirl darting ahead of her to paranoiacally check the space out. “They’re going to try to use us against each other,” she urgently explains. “Lena, they are going to do whatever it takes to break you down so they can turn your mind into a battlefield. Not just a battlefield where _our_ lives are at stake, but _everyone’s._ Don’t let them do it. I keep trying to find opportunities to get in, but you’re blocking me. They’re blocking me. Please, just remember that we’re not truly enemies, okay?” 

Lena can conclude that she’s in her virtual reality, that this scenario is too strange to be anything less than a construct of her overworked mind. “Who are _they_?” she still asks, grabbing at Supergirl’s arm. But then she blinks and she’s standing in the coat room again, glancing around in total confusion because neither Supergirl or Kara are anywhere in sight. 

She’s sweating and gripping onto the sleeve of a random coat, which looks so much like one of Kara’s. 

It’s a good enough reason to cancel all of her meetings that afternoon. 

It can't be the tech doing this to her. She’s proven that to herself by taking it out, by going days without using the device, and she trusts it because _she_ created it. 

This is a mental breakdown, she concludes — this is devastation from months of unbearable loneliness, and the outcome of Kara’s total dishonesty. And, if she’s being reasonable, Lena can’t just pin this on Kara. This breakdown has been an entire lifetime in the making. 

Her fingers coil tighter around the coat, and she holds onto it as if it’s a person, not just an empty garment. 

It almost seems to cling back, but not as Kara would, and then she can smell Lex’s aftershave and cologne. She’s spiraling deep into a memory. 

“Lena,” Lex whispers, rubbing slow circles over her upper back while she lets out a sob. “You’re okay now, Lena. No one is going to hurt you while I’m around.” He’s younger, but with an already thinning hairline and intense look about him. 

She’s sixteen and hysterical — but not for the usual reasons that most sixteen year olds get hysterical. 

A few days ago, she was kidnapped by her father’s former business associate — someone with a grudge, who was smart enough to go after the weakest link in the family: Lena.

He played a long game, never letting on how he despised Lionel for bankrupting one of his companies, proving himself a kindly and loyal friend. His name was Sam. 

“I’m right here, Lena,” Lex repeats. “Look at me.” 

She looks and sobs, grateful for his ability to ground her when she’s coming undone. 

Lillian steps into the library then, where Lena has been curled up with a physics text book and an ice pack for the entire afternoon. 

Lena parts from Lex, and resumes both staring out the window and huddling under her warm blanket on the couch. There’s slush on the lawn outside, and she’s missing school, even though she would have liked to return immediately. 

“Lex, give me a moment alone with Lena,” Lillian requests, eyes narrowing as she settles down on the ottoman by Lena’s feet. 

Lena’s face is blotchy from tears, her nose damp and runny, and her hair hasn’t been washed in several days. 

Lex nods to his mother and leaves, shutting the door behind him, in case the servants eavesdrop. 

Lena can only stare at the snow outside, the places where the plough has caused ugly ruts. Her fingers tighten on the top of her text book. She holds it up in front of her like a shield, afraid of what her mother might say. 

Lillian rips two tissues out of a box on one of the desks, passes them over to Lena and clears her throat to demand her attention. “I know what happened to you was horrible,” Lillian acknowledges. “It’s even worse because Sam is someone you knew, and you believed his intentions towards you were good. I always expect the worst from people and this is why. It’s a hard lesson to learn, Lena, and you’ve learned it in a most unpleasant way, with an oaf for a teacher. But you survived the ordeal and that’s what matters. You are home, you are healing and you need to put this incident behind you and concentrate on your goals. You have a brilliant mind and I won’t let you waste it.” 

Lena flinches when her mother reaches for her. She tries to make herself smaller. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me go back to school right away,” she softly points out. “I told you that I was ready.”

“Forgive me for not believing you,” Lillian sighs and it’s a shock to Lena when she moves forward, forcing her own stiff frame into the small space beside her.

Lena doesn’t know how to react, except to stay very still as Lillian brushes the hair away from her neck, where deep black-blue bruising has turned purple just below her beauty mark. Even the gentlest of touches from Lillian sets off unsettling flashbacks for Lena. Still, she maintains her calm and stares right back at her mother. She refuses to break completely, now or ever. 

“Strong girl,” Lillian whispers, respect in her eyes as she lifts Lena’s chin, looks her over and softly squeezes her hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Lena enters lines of code into her computer, jots down notes and also begins testing out another completed algorithm with training data. It will be months of hard work and slow progress, and she’s so focused on it that she doesn’t feel Lillian behind her. Her mother is leaning over, taking in her work with curiosity and mild disapproval. 

“You are better off working alone, you know.” Lillian’s voice grates. “Why have you become so involved with Obsidian Tech?” 

It’s the first time that Lena has seen her mother in person since she killed Lex. 

Lillian wears an expensive designer black dress underneath an equally costly and austere-looking raincoat. It’s a far cry from her plain prison garb.

“I’ve been granted a pardon,” Lillian explains when Lena glances up at her, asking how she’s managed to evade prison with her eyes alone. “It really couldn’t have come at a better time. The women’s correctional facilities are all facing budget cuts and overcrowding, which I’m sure you know, since you just sold most of our facilities. Do you plan to sell off all of our business assets?”

“Just the ones that are associated with bad memories,” Lena replies and pretends to continue with her work. 

“That’s rich, Lena. You won’t be able to hold onto _any_ assets if that’s your business plan,” Lillian huffs, dropping the briefcase she’s been clutching onto a lab table. 

Part of Lena wants to confide in her mother about Lex, right in this moment, yet she knows better than to give any secrets away. 

It’s far safer to keep that card in her deck and play it later on, when it becomes advantageous. The pain in her eyes, on the other hand, proves to be an issue. Her mother must catch onto it, because she scrutinizes her and pulls up a stool. 

“Do you think you can just come back to work here?” Lena softly asks, her face vacant, offering up not a single emotion now, in case her mother uses it as a manipulation tactic. Even after their little bonding experience at the White House, she can’t trust her mother.

“No, I wouldn’t exactly say I’m a changed woman, but after spending a long period of time in confinement, and most of my life building our family empire, I think I deserve a break from all of this.” Lillian’s stern mask slips and nervousness takes hold as she places her hand on top of Lena’s wrist. “I’m just here for you.”

Lena gently tugs her hand free, keeps her focus on her work and forgets how to breathe. “Here for me,” she echoes softly but mockingly. “And what about Lex? In spite of his clear psychosis, aren’t you interested in finding him?” 

It’s a test, one that she expects Lillian to fail.

“No,” Lillian answers honestly. “Whatever he’s doing will only undermine you. We’ll face him together whenever he turns up.”

Lena’s fingers tremble a little as she pokes at the screen of a tablet. “So, your pardon — how did you work that out?” she asks.

“The DEO,” Lillian readily confides and glances over some of the blueprints on Lena’s desk with casual intrigue. “They traded time for service. I’m a consultant now, although I expect to have limited duties. I suppose I have you to thank, given all of your efforts to save the world and the personal relationship you formed with Agent Danvers.”

Lena’s whole attitude shifts in an instant and she pushes herself up from her chair so rapidly that some of the instruments on her desk slide away. “Agent Danvers worked out the terms of your pardon?” she asks.

Lillian appears concerned, but also surprised by her barely constrained rage. “She did, yes,” she admits. “You didn’t know? I’m working with Brainy and his sister on a device. It’s boring work, to be honest, but it beats sitting in a prison all day long.”

Lena swallows and her throat constricts, then she nods twice before heading towards the elevator.

“Where are you going?” Lillian calls out, making no move to follow, as if she expects Lena to come back. 

“I’ve been working for over twelve hours,” Lena says, shrugging as the elevator opens and she retreats from her mother. “Time for a break.”

By break, Lena doesn’t mean rest – she could _actually_ break something.

She steps out of L-Corp, and takes the first cab she sees over to DEO headquarters. When she storms inside, a number of agents look up from their desks, but that only makes her slam her heels harder against the floor. 

With everything Alex has done recently, between monitoring the press conference and the forced therapy, Lena is ready for a confrontation. This recent machination with her mother is beyond anything she ever expected. 

She strides right into an office where Alex is at work with two other agents. The agents scatter when they notice Lena’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Lena blurts. 

It’s not the greatest question, not the one that will get her the most answers, so she follows it up with a better one. “You’ve been monitoring all my professional activities, you forced me to see Dr. Olsen, and now you’ve stooped so low as to interfere with my mother?” 

“Lena, we haven’t been monitoring you, and while I knew about the offer the DEO made to your mom, that wasn’t my idea,” Alex placatingly responds, and she seems far too relaxed, far too glad to see Lena and not remorseful enough. “I did push to get you into therapy. I’m not going to lie to you about that.”

“But you’ll lie to me about plenty else!” Lena softly rages. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex frowns and stands across from Lena, searching her face. “I’ve always acted in your best interests, even when it came to situations in which you were a suspect and the DEO wanted to take more invasive measures. If I’ve ever lied to you, it’s been to help you. And right now I’m really scared for you, Lena. None of us know what to do—“

“You don’t need to do anything!” Lena interrupts, and then suddenly spits out a question she doesn’t want to ask. “When is the next game night?”

Attending another game night and acting like everything is normal might be enough to get Alex and everyone else off her back. It’s act of surrender rather than war, and she can almost hear Lex’s mocking laughter in her ear, but she thinks it will be far worse to have everyone continuously meddle in her life. 

Lena attempts to make her face serene, as neutral as she can be under the circumstances.

“It’s not for two weeks, but we could always have one sooner,” Alex offers, visibly excited by that idea and by the change in Lena’s energy. “Should I text everyone and see if they’re available for tonight?” 

Lena’s shoulders drop, and she wonders whether it’s really worth it to continue avoiding an open confrontation with Alex and the rest of Kara’s friends. It might be cathartic to shout at all of them, but that’s not the most strategic move. “Sure,” Lena says mildly. “I’m free tonight.”

Kara still hasn’t told anyone why they’re arguing, and Lena would like to know the reason for _that._

Is she afraid of how her friends will react? Or is Kara just hoping to fix this problem on her own, without the complications of other people? 

The thought of sitting across from Kara for an entire night and making her feel very uncomfortable is oddly soothing to Lena. 

“So, what games are you thinking for tonight?” Alex asks, already composing a message to their group chat. “Charades?”

“Charades.” Lena confirms, altogether amused by the irony of Alex’s choice. “My favorite game.” 

All of their friends are available that night, and they respond enthusiastically to Alex’s message, except for Kara. 

There’s no response from Kara at all, and Lena wonders if that means she won’t show up. 

Lena skips the rest of her work day and goes back to the Baldwin to shower, shave her legs and sleep. She hasn’t taken an afternoon nap in over a decade, except when _poisoned,_ but she needs the rest if she plans to hold it together. Pain killers and wine aren’t the best combination, but she chases a few of the former with the latter, and sleeps from just after three o’clock until six thirty. 

Game night doesn’t start until eight, so she has enough time to do her make-up and get dressed. She chooses relaxed pants and a cozy dark purple sweater — the kind of clothes she always wears to game nights. 

It’s about seven o’clock when she goes down to get her car, and when she opens the door to slide in, Kara is waiting for her. 

“I didn’t want to come up,” Kara explains with a glance towards the building. “I didn’t think that would be a good idea, but I wanted to talk to you before we faced everyone. I hope you don’t mind if I hitch a ride.”

Lena shrugs noncommittally, climbs into the vehicle and sits in stony silence. There is little point in speaking first, when it’s Kara who claims to want to have this conversation. 

Kara looks so good in casual clothes — a tight fitted tee under a sweater, with jeans and trainers. Lena glares at her just for the excuse to take her in, and her lips part a little as her eyes drift. 

“I was out of line,” Kara finally mutters, wary of the driver overhearing the conversation but still soldiering on nevertheless. “For how I spoke to you after the meeting at CatCo. The reason I kept my secret from you for so long... well, it’s a lot more complex than I let on. I shouldn’t have made it all about you. Honestly, I have a lot of issues related to my identity in general, and I’m _really_ trying to deal with them.”

Lena doesn’t react to any of it, and she’s thankful that she’s feeling more numb tonight — that she can sit in the car alongside Kara and have no trouble holding her tongue. 

“I had this idea in my head,” Kara whispers, staring out the window and sounding almost frightened. “About us. A few years ago, before I was ever in a serious relationship with anyone, I used to feel sorry for myself. I felt like I would never connect romantically with any human or alien. That I’d be _alone._ And I know we’re just friends...” Her voice wavers at that, with a hint of doubt that makes Lena’s heart both thud faster and ache. 

“I know we _were_ friends,” Kara corrects, shoving her glasses up further on her nose and wincing in dismay. “And I know I lied, and hurt you more than anyone else has ever hurt you, but our relationship has been the most meaningful relationship in my life. I couldn’t take the risk of losing you, because I’ve never been so connected to someone. I think I could live for thousands of years, and never find another being like you, Lena. Not on this planet, or any other.” 

Those sweet sentiments get to Lena and knock her out of her calm state. She’s suddenly swallowing back tears and she resents it. 

Kara moves across the seat, stares at her with intensity and cups Lena’s cheek. It’s so dizzying to be in close proximity after such distance between them. 

Although her mind has been playing tricks on her lately, Lena has no doubt that these feelings are real. Her emotions are so raw, and she’s susceptible in this moment, too dependent on old instincts and need. 

Kara caresses her with a thumb, and leans forward to rest her head against Lena’s in a warm embrace. 

As they effortlessly fit together, Lena can feel the gravitational pull between their lips and eyes.

The attraction overwhelms her entirely, and if not for the jolt of the stopping car, Lena would allow Kara through her weakened defenses. 

She would let Kara back in for the cheap price of a kiss. 

The longing between them is too strong to tolerate, and Lena grabs Kara’s hands. She moves them off her, then gets out of the car. 

Nia and Brainy are both on the sidewalk outside, and Lena is strangely grateful when Nia notices her and pulls her into an immediate hug. It breaks her out of the daze Kara had caused, and cools her down as she walks into J’onn’s place. 

Kara stuffs her hands into her jean pockets and wanders after them in troubled silence. 

It seems like Alex has gone to a lot more fuss than usual for this game night. Every board game and card game known to man is piled up high on the coffee table, and there’s way more food than their group of friends will be able to eat. Lena’s favorite wines are all lined up in a neat little row waiting for her. 

“Hey, everyone’s on time for once,” Alex remarks with a bright smile, as if she hadn’t _demanded_ punctuality. “We’re starting the night with Charades, so pick your teams, people.” 

Lena stops to partake in the wine, although she thinks it would be better not to, and she’s proven instantly right when everyone else beats her into the living room. 

The only open seat is beside Kara on the couch, because Nia and Brainy are perched together in the armchair, and Alex and J’onn have claimed the other chairs for themselves. 

“Looks like we’re going to have an uneven number tonight, since James is still in Metropolis,” Kelly notes, as Alex leans forward to grab the card deck. “I’ll be on Alex and J’onn’s team.” 

Nia and Brainy partner up, which leaves Lena with Kara by default. 

While they’re all snacking on pizza and prepping for the game, it’s an opportune time for J’onn to casually toss a question Lena’s way. “You keeping alright? It’s been a while since you joined us at a game night.” 

“It’s now been exactly one hundred and fifty-three days,” Brainy chimes in, always insisting on precise figures. “You’ve also missed three holidays that we all observe, plus four birthdays, though you did send thoughtful gifts.” 

Leave it to Brainy to keep track of Lena’s absences and to lay that information out clearly for the group. 

Alex swallows a gulp of wine while holding Lena’s gaze. “Lena’s just been busy,” she softly reasons. 

Lena goes along with Alex’s alibi and avoids the worried looks that surround her on all sides. “It’s this whole partnership with Obsidian Tech. It seemed like such a promising opportunity and it’s required my complete focus over these last few months. I lost myself in it for a while.” 

It sounds believable, if a little shaky, but Lena sells it with a smile. She focuses on Nia, who generously nods along with her, rather than the rest of her friends, who are watching her with disquieted expressions on their faces. 

“Well, we’re glad you came back to us,” Nia cheerfully declares. “We need you to balance out this whole group of over-competitive nerds.”

“Lena is the biggest over-competitive nerd,” Brainy remarks with his eyebrows deeply furrowed. “And I don’t mean that in the literal sense. In size, she is small, but in ego, big.”

Lena rolls her eyes at that. Everyone laughs at Brainy’s joke, and she’s grateful for his odd sense of humor because it lightens the mood of the room. 

For the most part, as they begin the game, there are fewer worried glances thrown her way. 

In spite of how annoying it is to be analyzed, it’s much more fun than Lena expects to play games with the people who completely destroyed her ability to trust. 

She laughs out loud when Brainy has to hop around like a bunny during their movie-themed game of charades, and when Alex swings Kelly around the living room, until J’onn guesses Dirty Dancing. 

It’s not all fun, though. When it’s her turn with Kara, they are out of sync with one another and unable to accurately guess at any of the clues. 

It doesn’t help that every prompt Lena gets is for a depressing movie, like Titanic or Requiem for a Dream. Kara, on the other hand, seems to only get titles to romantic comedies, and Lena finally guesses The Princess Bride accurately when Kara pretends to put on a fake crown and walk down the aisle. 

After several rounds, they are still on a losing streak and the tension between them shows no signs of ebbing away. Their almost-kiss and unfinished conversation makes it even harder to be in the same room together, and Alex seems aware of it, because she decides it’s time for a break after charades. “I think we need to be merciful, and stop kicking Kara and Lena’s butts for a little while,” she announces. 

“That’s a first,” Kara grumpily remarks, tucking her socked feet under her legs. “You’re usually all too happy to rub your victory in my face.” 

“Consider it an exception for Lena’s sake, because she can’t help who she chose as a best friend,” Alex smirks. She plucks up her wine glass to toast her win with Kelly and J’onn. 

Half of the group wanders off in search of snacks, while the rest are content to relax. Brainy and J’onn have a debate about politics in the kitchen while Nia stands by and munches on chips. 

“You want another glass of wine?” Kara asks Lena, and she merely nods, accepting the offer because it means they won’t have to sit pressed up against each other anymore. 

“Okay, please tell me what’s been going on between the two of you,” Alex whispers as soon as Kara’s out of earshot. “Did you and Kara… I don’t know, sleep together and then decide to just remain friends? Is that what this fight is all about?” Cringing at her own assumption, she scoots towards Lena to prevent anyone else from listening in on the conversation. 

As it is, Kelly is sitting on the couch close enough to overhear, and she unhelpfully interjects, “Honestly, I assumed that was part of it, too. There’s some serious Sapphic vibes between you two ladies.”

Lena hates the speculation and that they have chosen to bring it up to her rather than corner Kara about it. “Of course not,” she laughs, but it’s a light, phony and suspicious sounding laugh, even to her own ears. “I don’t have feelings for Kara.” 

If they can all lie to her for years, it’s well within Lena’s rights to tell this _one_ lie. 

Except Kara has come back with her wine, and she’s holding it out to Lena with a hurt expression on her face that instantly tailspins the lie, knocking it down like a targeted missile. At least, Alex and Kelly seem to recognize it’s a lie, even if Kara doesn’t. 

Kara looks like she might retreat. Lena can see it in her anxious fidgeting, but then Kara boldly steps forward and this time sits even closer to her. 

Lena drinks her wine, taking a long sip just to keep her lips busy, and Kara swings around towards her and frowns. 

“Lena found out that I’m Supergirl,” Kara discloses, just as everyone moves back into their places to continue on with the game night. “That’s why we haven’t seen her for a while, and why I doubt she wants to be here right now. The lie... it _completely_ destroyed our friendship. Lena feels like she can’t trust any of us. She feels like she’s alone, because every person she ever relied on has deceived and hurt her.”

It feels like Kara is only doing this because of what Lena said, but she’s not exactly sure why it’s happening right now—why Kara waited to tell everyone at a time when Lena’s sitting among them, rather than sooner or later on. 

It’s the worst way for them to find out, the hardest on Lena, and she realizes that she needs to leave the second she feels the wine hit her bloodstream. She’s a messy drunk and she might cry at the slightest provocation if she stays, or otherwise give in to anger. 

Everyone sits in silence while Lena stands up, but when she starts to move, they all call out to her and try to follow. She ignores them, and moves faster, until she’s outside under the clear night sky and inhaling fresh air. 

Lena doesn’t phone for her car or a taxi. She just puts distance between herself and J’onn’s home. 

It suddenly starts pouring and she ends up ducking into a convenience store to the avoid rain.

Behind the counter, the cashier is on the phone, watching her and muttering about the weather, and for a second she swears that she hears her name on his lips. 

She buys a bottle of sparkling water, not because she likes it but because it will clear her throat. Then she goes back out into the rain, which comes down so hard that the roads become rivers. 

When she arrives back at the hotel she’s called home for the past few years, she slips into her virtual reality -- conjures up a calming sunset through her window, even though it’s completely dark outside. Then she takes a scorching shower and curls into her bed with a cup of tea, a book in her lap and glasses on her face. She turns off her phone after checking on the flood of new text messages, apologies from everyone but Kara. 

_Kara_ is standing at the end of Lena's bed, and it doesn’t matter that she might be fake, because their entire relationship was fake.

“Nothing is real anyway,” Lena mutters drowsily to herself. “Not a damn thing. I’d rather lie to myself than let others do it.” 

“I knew you’d come to that conclusion eventually!” Lex crows loudly. He never did know how to modulate his voice, but his shouting also never fails to startle Lena. 

Strutting across the room in the dapper suit he _died_ in, Lex shows off the bullet holes by pulling at the jacket. “No blood,” he explains when she gawks it. “I’m an evil genius, Lena. I can figure out how to do my own dry cleaning. By the way, I am real, since I know you’ve been feeling confused lately. I saw your little episode the other day in the hotel bar.” 

Lena reaches for the gun she keeps stashed between her mattress and frame, but Lex grabs her by the wrist and pulls her up from the bed by that arm. 

She has no idea which episode he’s talking about, but she doesn’t have the opportunity to think about it, not when he’s hurting her and chuckling in her face. 

“I tell you that you’ve been _totally_ and willfully blind to the fact that all of your friends are liars, and what do you do? You invent a way to continue lying to yourself!” Lex laughs in short bursts of maniacal glee while he holds onto her. “Oh, I know you also built a morality feature into your new little toy, Lena. I watched the press conference. But do really you think your customers are interested in a feature that helps them make better decisions? Most of them are just using your latest creation as a hedonistic retreat—” 

Kara continues to stand at the end of the bed, not reacting to Lex’s presence or words. He doesn’t seem to notice her and Kara vanishes from sight as he shakes Lena. She feels the strange temptation to cry out, to ask for help that she knows won't come.

Lena finds Lex impossibly strong, and he drags her across the bedroom to the window, where she can see her own reflection and the lights in all of the buildings in the city. 

Looking out windows with Lex is a pastime—one that always results in him trying to enlighten her in some way. 

“I’m done mocking you. We have more important matters to discuss. Several months ago, you killed me. I don’t suppose you remember what I wrote in my letter to you after I knocked you out?” Lex rumbles very softly into her ear, but Lena still flinches. “The quote from The Merchant of Venice.”

She remembers it. It’s one of the quotes he used to make her recite as a child.

“ _The villainy you teach me I will execute — and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction,_ ” Lena mutters the quote calmly, even as her pulse beats erratically in fear, and she cinches her eyebrows together as she realizes her life is in danger. 

The quote means that he intends to do her one better: she might have succeeded in killing him, but now he’s back, and when he takes Lena’s life, it will be permanent and in a way she won’t predict. She can only imagine he plans to retaliate for Kara’s exposé, too. 

“Good memory. You are so intelligent, Lena — such a gift to this world!” Lex compliments her in a doting voice and releases her from his painful grip. “Now, I’ll let you get back to your quiet evening. I have other places to be. Unlike you, I find my social calendar quite full these days.”


	7. Chapter 7

Lena expects Lex to keep a low profile rather than alert national security to his re-emergence, but he’s an arrogant man with a vendetta. 

By the next day, she finds out about an attack on her top employees at L-Corp — a favorite member of the board, secretaries, and some of the research staff that the company relies on have all turned up dead. 

It’s not just that, but Lex publicly takes credit for the murders and dedicates the deeds to Lena. CatCo reports on it, and several new interns leave messages on her phone requesting comments. 

This isn’t Lex’s typical approach to terrorizing the city - it lacks cunning and finesse, which leads Lena to believe it’s just a first step in a grander scheme for revenge. 

Lena has no doubt that it’s only a matter of time before Kara, Alex, or her mother tracks her down, looking for answers. She needs to go to L-Corp and make a statement about Lex’s heinous acts — it’s what she’s expected to do at a time like this, but instead she takes her car and drives away from it all. 

It’s not like her to give up entirely—to run—but she does it without planning. She dismisses her driver for the day, and finds herself on the fringe of National City within the half hour, heading towards the countryside. 

Her mother is ultimately the one to handle the press, along with Kara, whose pen is at the ready to spin the murders as even more evidence of Lena’s goodness and opposition to Lex. 

Meanwhile, Lena parks at a rest stop and sleeps curled up in the backseat of her car, hair tangled and face pale. She eats a greasy burger that leaves an oil stain on her dark wash jeans, while listening to the radio for updates, and her phone’s repeated chiming for attention. 

It’s Kara who finds her, who reaches her first, no doubt by flying through the city and its suburbs until she locates Lena’s car. 

“Why did you run off?” Kara asks, from where she stands in front of the vehicle, hands on her suit clad hips. “You have no idea how worried we’ve all been about you! We thought Lex kidnapped you again, or even worse—”

Lena’s back in the front seat now, with her head and arms draped on the dashboard. Kara slides into the passenger seat and waits for some explanation of Lena’s behavior.

“He won’t kidnap me. Lex wants me to suffer first before he puts me out of my misery,” Lena admits with a shrug, and then crumples the wrapper from her greasy burger. “Please tell Alex that I’m concerned his next targets will be any or all of the charities I’ve recently donated to, along with my other pet projects. For a complete list, she can look at the blue flash drive on the shelf by the aloe plant in my office.” 

“Why don’t you tell her all of that yourself?” Kara asks, cinching her eyebrows together in a subtly accusing way - as if she's already sensed Lena's fight is gone. “You’re just planning to hide out here rather than face the growing crisis situation? Is this because of what happened at game night? Look, I know I should have told everyone much sooner -- ” 

“Yes, and why didn’t you? Why did you wait until a night when I was _almost_ enjoying myself to do it?” Lena asks a bit hysterically, taking her sudden rage out on the paper bag her burger came in, crushing that too. 

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone before,” Kara hoarsely chokes out, both apologetic and deflated. “You withdrew from all of us. Now you’re planning to run instead of challenging Lex and his agenda like you always do—“

“I’m tired,” Lena drawls, voice low and ominous as she leans back against her seat. “I’m tired of everyone and everything.” _Especially you._

All morning she’s been thinking about selling off more of her assets, L-Corp included. She’s considered finding a home somewhere along the coast and retreating into a life of solitude, and maybe a few private, smaller endeavors - ones that won’t cost anyone their lives. 

“Lex wants me to fight back, he wants me to call a press conference and denounce him again. He wants to see me desperate to prove myself to the people of National City one last time,” Lena softly explains, staring in the direction of the tall buildings out towards the horizon. “I’m _done_ with all of that. I’ll never be good enough.” 

She’s bone weary, so overcome with a feeling of resignation and inertia - she’s officially given up on herself. 

“You didn’t tell your friends about what happened between us because you have feelings for me,” Lena quietly states, so sure that she’s right, although she hadn’t reflected on it the night before. “When you said you had this idea in your head about us, you meant romantically. You held off on telling me about your identity because you wanted a more serious relationship with me, and how would that _ever_ have been possible? How could a Luthor and a Super ever fall in love? So you lied. You lied to me, so you could love me like a friend instead - as Kara—“

Kara sits in stunned silence, not denying any of it, but she gives a slow shake of her blonde, wind-tousled head after a few beats. “No, deep down, I always loved you as more than a friend,” she whispers honestly. 

Lena nods and strains to swallow, face aching as she holds in a cry. “Go back to the city,” she urges. “Tell Alex about those files for me. Tell my mother I’m okay.” 

“And where are you going? What are you going to do?” Kara asks, helpless and frustrated at her inability to change Lena’s mind, to convince her to openly fight Lex or at least return to National City. 

“My cabin. I’ll go there,” Lena asserts, and rubs at her eyes, clearing her face of any tears before she embarrasses herself, or lashes out. “At the very least, that is the last thing Lex will anticipate. Maybe it will take some of the wind out of his sails if I don’t do what he expects.” 

Kara seems to be satisfied enough with that, and yet she hesitates to fly off with the information for Alex. She wets her lips, blinks a few times, and begins to cry, two large drops that smack against her cheeks simultaneously. “Could you ever have loved me, if I had told you I was Supergirl?”

The question rips a soft sob out of Lena, yanks it out like a bullet she never knew was inside of her, putting her in shock. Her fair skin goes unnaturally white and she chokes on her tongue. “ _No,_ ” she softly lies. 

It’s impulsive and cruel, but necessary after what Lex has done. It's clear he plans to ruin Lena, to tear apart every single one of her personal accomplishments, all of the work she’s prided herself on during these past few years. All of the people that could possibly mean anything to her. 

If she gives any hope to Kara right now, if Lex senses that Lena’s not only trying to rekindle her friendship with Kara, but that she’s in love with her, he’s going to double down on his efforts to destroy her, utterly and completely. He could expose Kara’s identity, he could devise other ways to kill her, he could mastermind a thousand plots against them both. 

Lena’s love is dangerous — it’s a weapon Lex will use. And how could she love Kara now anyway?

“No, Kara,” Lena repeats it again when she gets no reaction, only a blank stare that suggests Kara hasn’t processed what she’s said. “I _don’t_ — I could _never_ love you like that. You were just a friend. A friend who violated my trust, who was really no friend to me at all. I’ve done all that I can to help you now. You should go back to the city.” 

Kara weeps, broken-hearted and hiccuping without her glasses to hide behind. She nods vigorously, showing her acceptance of that, even though Lena knows she’s inwardly so shattered by it. 

“You were my friend. That was real, and I’m still glad we had a friendship, even if it was only for a little while,” Kara warbles. “Nothing will change what it meant to me.” 

Swinging open the door, Kara gives Lena one fleeting look of longing and hurt, then leaps into the sky and zooms away. 

As Kara’s figure becomes nothing more than a speck of color, Lena curls into herself and grieves, letting out breathy little cries of anguish. 

It’s late afternoon when she finally leaves the rest stop and drives to the cabin, which is surrounded by firs and old towering oaks, and located right beside a private lake. 

Lena stands by the water, not for the first time wondering why her birth mother took her own life, and why she as a bystander did nothing but watch ripples break the placid surface of the lake — even feeling some relief when her mother’s long hair floated like weeds, and her body gave in to the lake’s serene stillness. 

Once again, Lena is standing by and doing nothing in a situation where she should be screaming and fighting. 

She lingers at the water’s edge, calmly staring at the places by lily pads where fish blow bubbles, until the pain of too many losses finally overwhelms her and she hurls rocks at the lake. 

She’s furious, unhinged as she grabs the broken chunks of sandstone and shale, ripping each rock up from the ground where some are covered in pine needles and mud. Falling back on her palms, she screams out her anger as she continues to throw whatever her hands touch, sticks and moss and crunchy leaves. 

Her palms and nails are filthy, and her chest heaves as she sobs over her murdered employees, her wretched brother, all of the people that have treated her as an outsider or enemy, and because Kara loves her and they can never be together. The relationship they had is ruined now. 

She crawls back and sits under one of the old trees, hunched over her knees in exhaustion. Her eyes still leak as she’s falling asleep. 

It’s how Lillian finds her hours later, shining a flashlight in her face.

“Oh, Lena, what happened to you?” Lillian demands, aghast by the state of Lena as she kneels down to check her pulse. “You’re not injured. Did you just decide to play in the dirt like you did when you were a child?”

Lena barely lifts her head or does more than stare groggily up at her mother. “I’ve never played in the dirt, mother. I was collecting samples for Lex back then, doing his bidding to my own detriment, like always.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t hear you over the distracting noise of your self-pity,” Lillian remarks, fixating on her with shrewd eyes as she tugs Lena up from the undergrowth. 

They go into the cabin, and Lena washes up while Lillian gets settled — puts on the kettle and makes them both cups of tea. 

“If you added your usual splash of poison to this, I don’t care,” Lena grates out and drinks the scorching tea while half-lying on the sofa.

Lillian shoots her a reproving look, takes a sip of her own tea and then gently shoves Lena over so she can sit. 

Lena expects a strong-worded response from Lillian, that her mother is not going to put up with any of this, but her jaw goes slack when that’s not the case. 

“This isn’t like you, Lena,” Lillian sighs. “It’s concerning and I came out here to help. So, please, make it easy for me. What do you need? Do I bake you cookies? Rub your back?”

Lena swallows down her tea, shakes her head and reclines back against the couch. She doesn’t know how to handle sincerity from her mother, how to be on the receiving end of something that feels like sympathy.

“That might have worked when I was six and broke my arm,” Lena remarks. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do to make me feel better about having a homicidal brother, no real friends and no future.” 

“You forget that I raised Alexander and that I know more of his weaknesses than you do. Between my resources and the DEO’s, we can stop him, Lena. As for friends: you have the Martian, Agent Danvers — that new weirdo I work with, Brainy. Dancer — I mean Dreamer—whatever all of their names are —“ Lillian pauses mid-rant, waving her hand dismissively.

“You didn’t mention Kara Danvers,” Lena notes, picking at her fingernails absently and tucking her legs closer to her body. 

“No, I didn’t,” Lillian says with an arch of her eyebrow, and it’s obvious her mother puts Kara in a category other than friend — though the little knowing gleam in her eye also reveals that Lillian isn’t thinking about Kara as an enemy anymore. She pats Lena’s knee as if she’s experimenting with ways of offering comfort. She must decide it’s not working, because she stands up and sweeps her arm towards the kitchen. “I think there are chocolate chips in the pantry. I’ll try my hand at baking.”

The mouth-watering scent of cookies fills the cabin soon after and Lillian brings Lena one fresh out of the oven and wrapped in a paper napkin. 

“What, did you think I would burn the cabin down?” Lillian asks, upon seeing Lena’s skeptic face. “I’m an expert in chemistry. I can handle a basic recipe and turning a knob on an oven.”

“I know,” Lena says duly, breaking the cookie in half and watching the chocolate morsels separate. “You just never showed an interest in anything domestic when I was growing up.”

“Raising two children wasn’t domestic enough for you?” Lillian grunts, biting viciously into a cookie. “I went to all of your PTA meetings to protest their exploitative fundraisers and unnecessary meddling. I made sure that our family library had all of the best books to feed your inquiring mind. There was even that one school dance that I chaperoned—“

“Just so you could impose your own set of rules on me,” Lena quietly reminds her, though she’s not as bitter as she usually is towards her mother. “You practically stood between me and my date during all of the slow dances—“ 

Lena's lips tick up in a small smile when she bites into the warm cookie, both because it tastes delicious and because not all of her memories of Lillian are terrible — just most of them. 

“What can I say? I wished you had better taste when it came to romance.” Lillian shrugs and tosses the rest of her own cookie aside, pours herself some more tea and settles back against the sofa. “But who am I to talk, when I married your father?”

Lena chews slowly, brooding over the mention of Lionel. She doesn’t want to think about him, or about her parents and their dysfunctional marriage, not when her heart already feels heavy from what happened with Kara. 

Their conversation nose dives from that point on, with Lillian criticizing not only Lionel, but all of the people Lena has ever dated.

When Lena retreats to her bedroom, she makes no effort to change her clothes before getting into bed. She wraps her arms around a pillow and thinks of Kara, and all of her conflicting feelings manifest, until she finds herself unable to sleep, and standing back outside under the moonlight. 

Kara glides down through the air and lands on the porch. 

“You’re back,” Lena acknowledges. She tries to seem unaffected by that. “Why?” 

“We received a message from Lex and we had no other way of contacting you,” Kara claims, fidgeting in place as if she’s upset about returning, or just nervous to be in Lena’s presence after everything she revealed earlier. “Lillian had already left before the message came through. We need your help to interpret it.” 

Kara thrusts the note at Lena and takes two strides back.

Lena touches the broken wax seal and flips open the letter, which is addressed to her but either must have been sent to the DEO, or found in her office. _Yet more evidence that the DEO is monitoring her._

The letter is another quote written in Lex’s flourishes: _Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind, And therefore is Winged Cupid painted blind._

“Lex is partial to Shakespeare,” Lena softly explains, lips puckered in anger to hide how much the quote stills her heart. “He’s mocking me for my blindness when it comes to our friendship. He knows that you’re Supergirl and that you and all of your friends lied to me for years. He was the one who told me.”

It’s not as simple as that. There’s another layer to Lex’s message. He must also already suspect that her feelings for Kara run deeper. That new information unnerves Lena. 

“He— _what_?” Kara blurts, her anger spiking to an unprecedented level, which Lena has only seen when Kryptonite was involved. “He knows that I’m Supergirl and you didn’t think to tell me about that!? That puts my life in more danger than Kryptonite, Lena! Not to mention it also affects Alex, my mom and so many other people. If anyone finds out that I’m Kara Danvers, I’ll be hunted down, and anyone I’ve ever known will be vulnerable!” 

Lena tries to speak, but she’s cut off by Kara, her timid and soft “wait” overpowered by all of the shouting.

In spur of the moment honesty, Kara hoarsely rages on, “You continually went behind my back with your experiments. You kept a lot of information from me that could have serious life and death consequences. I made excuses for that. It didn’t change how I saw you, even if I confronted you as Supergirl. But not telling me about Lex? It changes everything. He could out me to all of National City! The entire world! _Killing me_ would be kinder, and you — you withheld this important information for months. At least my lie didn’t have the potential to result in physical harm to you.” 

Kara shakes her head, tears of disappointment brimming in her eyes, but she doesn’t cry the way Lena does.

“That is _not_ fair,” Lena counters, squaring her jaw as she stands up to Kara. “The situation is much more complicated than it seems. I had reason to believe that Lex was neutralized after not hearing from him for over six months. And you’re completely out of line comparing _your_ lie to my situation with Lex! I didn’t go out of my way to lie to you about anything—“

“No, you just avoided me for months, formed ties with a company that has seriously questionable ethics, threatened to fire me from a job I love, and then showed up to game night out of the blue! Not because you wanted to be there, but just to make everything harder. That was nothing compared to what I did, right?” Kara grabs the railing on the porch steps and her hand goes right through it, crumbling the bar into splinters.

Lena reacts to the destruction, to the noise of it and the evidence of Kara’s barely restrained anger. She firms her jaw and readies herself in case their fight becomes physical, but instead something more terrible happens.

“You’ve told me so many times that we’re not friends,” Kara breathes out. “I’m beginning to understand that now.” Her lips pull in a devastated expression, eyebrows tight with tension. “But that’s not just on me anymore. If you ever cared about me at all, you would have told me about Lex.”

There’s no coming back from this, Lena thinks. Regardless of the nature of their feelings for one another, the strong mutual love that she’s felt, there’s too much stacked against them to _ever_ forgive. 

“You’re right,” Lena confirms, too weary to argue anymore, and because if Kara decides to hate her now, it will be better for them both. Better and safer, because Lex has just provided written confirmation that he will use Lena’s attachments against her. _And what is really left for Lena to be attached to anymore?_ “I _don’t_ care, but I will do whatever I can to cooperate with the ongoing investigations related to Lex.” 

Kara nods, too upset to even glance at Lena. “You can start by coming back to National City,” she asserts, and then stalks off through the trees, taking off and into flight.

All around, fireflies drift lazily, their lights like strange yellow eyes, blinking open and shut.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prefacing this chapter by saying that this part is more about Alex's behavior than anything else. Some readers expressed frustration over Lena's suffering and lack of fight - but I promise all of this is leading somewhere in chapter 9.

“I want to begin this press conference with an apology. I am sorry that I have been unreachable for the past 24 hours. The truth is that I was devastated by the loss of my employees.” 

Lena gazes out at the packed audience, which extends around the full square. It’s so vastly different from her first ever L-Corp press conference — the re-naming ceremony, which hardly anyone attended. There are people everywhere, and Lena wonders if the whole city has come out to hear her speech and to mourn the loss of the victims. 

“I would like to say that my employees were also my friends, but the truth is that I’m not the easiest person to get to know, and in turn, I didn’t go out of my way to learn more about them.”

Everyone in the crowd is standing still and listening attentively. The sun has already gone down in the west, but there are vigil candles — their soft flickers like a tide of flame that ebbs and flows with each person’s slightest movements. 

Lena swallows, tries to make eye contact with a few of the victims’ family members, and then lifts her eyes so that the stage lights shine in them and blocks everyone from view. It’s easier to carry on this way. It’s easier to avoid their tear stained faces.

“Since their deaths, I’ve learned more about who my employees were as people outside of the workplace. My research engineers Laura Pradish and Ryan Woo both graduated from MIT. I recall that Laura impressed me with her resume, that she struck me as a promising young mind that I believed I could nurture. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of myself. She was also adopted and eager to make a difference in this world. She hoped to start a family soon with her husband, Dan. She is survived by an adoptive sister, Katrina.” 

Lena pauses, keeps her head up as she scans the crowd and notices Dan with Katrina. Her stomach knots as she watches them cry, but she glances away. She searches through the weeping faces for anyone she knows personally.

No one is there — at least not in plain view, offering her any moral support.

She tilts her head down and focuses on what she has to say, instead of the sudden and terrible feeling of abandonment that grips her. 

“Ryan Woo was the pride of his family—not only the first to go to college but also the first to earn a PhD. His graduate project in bioengineering, and specifically his studies with zebra fish helped me to develop a better genetic coding and cutting process of my own. He’s survived by his parents, and two brothers, Eric and Michael.”

Lena presses a hand into her side, digging her fingers in under her ribs. “Our board member, Herbert Walsh, was a consultant, who... “

A bomb detonates.

Not just any bomb, but one that fills the air with gaseous and acrid smoke. The crowd screams, and the ones that can run all hurry to get away, while others drop and start to choke on their own blood. 

FBI agents, members of the DEO and first responders swarm the scene, and Lena runs off the stage and into the epicenter of the explosion. 

With all of her strength, Lena drags struggling people to safety, while doing her best to hold her breath. 

Supergirl saves the ones that are worst off, swooping in and out with as many people as fast as she can carry them. 

It’s not long before suited federal workers appear with gas masks, and the death toll is announced in the news later that night as _lower than expected_ : twelve adults and four children succumbed during the attack.

Still too many lives for Lena to accept. 

“I never should have come back,” Lena tells Alex, when she has no choice but to meet with her later that night. 

They are at L-Corp and it's been two hours since the explosion, but Lena keeps replaying the whole incident in her mind. 

Kara is there too, and tensions are at a new high in Lena’s office. Everyone is upset and angry with each other. 

Alex is furious that Lena withheld information about Lex, and she’s furious that Kara didn’t tell her about the situation with Lena much sooner.

“We expected a bomb,” Alex insists, voice louder than necessary. “We just thought we could defuse it, and we didn’t expect complications, like chemicals that eat away lung tissue.” She paces around the office, too agitated to sit. 

Lena has brought her crystal decanter of scotch whisky to her desk. She pours an excessive amount into a glass. 

Sinking into her chair, Lena savors each gulp that will take her closer to oblivion. 

“Why are you drinking at a time like this?” Kara scolds, although she’s never been one to comment when it comes to Lena’s alcohol consumption. “We’re supposed to be figuring out Lex’s next move. He hasn’t exposed me yet, so I can only assume he’s saving that for some kind of grand finale. What else could he do in the meantime?” 

“I would say it’s fairly obvious. We just have to think of everything I’ve ever done in retribution to help this city. Lex will try to overturn it.” Lena swirls her drink and takes another sip just to spite Kara. “He also plotted to take our mother’s life in the past. I’m sure she’s in danger. And I would say the entire DEO as an organization is under threat. All of you—anyone who has ever befriended me. I would heighten security for everyone—“

“And you, Lena,” Alex argues, pressing one hand into her hip and idly resting it on an empty holster. “What if he tries to visit you? You should have someone with you at all times.” 

“He already visited me. It was two nights ago, right before the first attack,” Lena admits, face solemn and almost challenging, in case Alex or Kara have anything to say about her withholding more information. “I _knew_ Lex would act. I just never imagined it would be the next day.”

“From now on, if Lex makes any attempt to contact you, I need to know about it immediately,” Alex demands. 

Lena hates the way Alex gives her orders, but she simply glares down into her drink rather than commenting on it. 

If that’s not enough, Alex – ever the opportunist – uses the situation as leverage to push for an increase to Lena’s security. 

“Until we have further leads, I think it would be safest for you to stay some place other than the Baldwin,” Alex continues. “I know it’s not ideal, but the FBI went through your room again, and this time they found a hidden corridor system similar to the one you discovered in your brother’s prison cell. Either way, you’re looking at infringements on your privacy. From Lex. From the government.”

Alex shiftily glances around at Kara and then peers back at Lena. “I’ve been at the DEO around the clock or I would ask you to stay with me. Even though you’re not the best of friends right now, you could stay with Kara—” 

“There is no way in hell,” Lena snaps, and she’s ready to voice further protests, but Kara beats her to it.

“That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had, Alex. Lena can go to her cabin, or stay at L-Corp. Half of the time she sleeps in her office anyway.” Kara snorts furiously, jerking her head to glance around at all of the furnishings that make the office a little more cozy. “She’ll be fine right here.”

“Perhaps the last thing we’ll ever agree on,” Lena emphatically declares, gesturing towards Kara as she sides with her on the matter. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Alex grates out, fed up with their mutual unwillingness to repair any of the damage between them. “I held a dead five year old girl in my arms today. That put a lot into perspective for me. We’re dealing with a next level crisis here, and all you can think about is your feud. I’m not trying to belittle either of you for having emotions, but you can’t let them get in the way of what we’re doing here.”

“I’m not letting _anything_ get in my way,” Lena stresses. “If you want to station DEO agents at L-Corp around the clock, feel free.” 

Lena only puts up the offer because it’s the lesser evil, and because L-Corp employees have already been targeted.

Alex sighs and hangs her head, blatantly frustrated with Kara for refusing to help. “Fine,” she agrees. “But we also need to clear the air between us. We need a good working environment so nothing will distract us from what we have to do.” 

Lena can’t help but wonder why Alex is trying to seem so impartial in this situation. Why is Alex showing _any_ support for her at all when she’s put Kara’s life in jeopardy by not telling anyone about Lex? 

All Lena can conclude is that they need her help to find and stop her brother. Once the crisis is over, Lena will be expendable until the next problem comes along. 

Kara folds her arms over her chest and uncooperatively sticks out her chin. It’s her turn to pace the floors, throwing furtive glances Lena’s way when it seems like she’s not looking. Lena sees them all—each glower and pout—even out of the corner of her eye. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” Alex proposes, sliding into one of the chairs across from Lena. “I’m pissed off at both of you, and I don’t really need to recap my reasons for that, but I will say that we all have to start trusting each other more. No good has come from keeping secrets. Lena, you should have told us right away that Lex knows about Kara’s identity. I don’t need to tell you that it could be potentially catastrophic if he exposes her. But we _both_ also owe you an apology. I am so sorry that we lied to you and made you feel like you’re not one of us.”

Alex appears to be sincere – her eyes brimming with apology as she leans over the desk. 

“You didn’t just make me feel that way,” Lena mildly replies, even if her voice still contains an edge of bitterness to it. “You proved to me that I’m really _not_ like the rest of you.”

Alex halts before speaking again with a perplexed scrunch of her forehead. 

Lena’s anger stays below the surface where it belongs, lurking like a coiled snake—well out of sight. She conducts herself calmly and diplomatically, but the fangs are never too far away, coated with poison for the moment either Alex or Kara misstep. 

“I can _never_ be like you,” Lena murmurs. 

“You know what? No two people are exactly alike,” Kara cuts in, waving her hand in a broad gesture that Lena thinks is meant to provoke her. “That doesn’t mean we’re _all_ incapable of understanding one another.” 

“Understanding goes hand in hand with trust, which we’ve apparently never shared between us, much as I _did_ try before,” Lena lilts, still pliant and soft, letting Kara’s words roll off of her. She takes another small gulp of her drink, grateful for its heat in her throat, which stops her from saying more. 

Kara laughs, clenching her teeth so hard that all of the tendons in her neck are visibly straining. “You know what? I’ve had enough of this!” she announces, stalking forward with a gleam in her eyes that Lena’s rarely ever witnessed, and only ever when it’s aimed at a foe.

It’s an intimidating feeling to be on the receiving end of it, and Lena tries to get away as her vision suddenly swims. Her body is betraying her when she _should_ be stronger. 

Lena spins her chair to the side, but fails to get up, and then she finds herself sitting helpless and tied. 

It’s not Kara and Alex with her now. Instead it’s a pair of Lex’s thugs and she’s repeating his mantra in her head. As her older brother, he promised to protect her. 

_No one is going to hurt you while I’m around._

Is that Lex saying it, or Kara?

_I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I will always be your friend._

Lena tells herself that Kara — no, _Lex_ — will always protect her, that a promise is a promise. 

“You said — you _promised,_ ” Lena pants through her nostrils, voice low and frightened. “You promised to protect me and you _lied._ ” 

One of the thugs is gripping her neck, depriving her of air, while the other makes sickening remarks about her. 

She’s going to pass out, she thinks — can already feel the world going black, but the next second she’s on the floor and Alex’s hand is on her shoulder.

Alex is holding her other hand out to block Kara, enforcing Lena’s need for some space between them. “She thinks you’re someone else,” Alex frantically explains. “Kara, back off.”

Lena coughs thickly, choking up droplets of blood that paint her palm as she covers her mouth. 

“Oh Lena, please tell me you had the good sense to get checked out by one of the EMTs earlier at the scene of the incident.” Alex cradles Lena’s against her, and waves Kara towards the phone. “Normally I would tell you to fly her to the hospital, but call an ambulance. The wind and air pressure might make her issue worse.”

Alex holds Lena with one arm while she strips off her jacket with the other, putting it around Lena like a blanket, because she’s still wearing her clothes from the press conference—a short sleeved blouse, stockings and a skirt. Lena’s trembling from cold and fear. 

“I’m _fine,_ ” Lena groans in annoyance, wiping at her face and attempting to stand up, even as her knees buckle. “It’s just a throat irritation. It’s not my lungs.” 

The room still flips, and Lena’s desk feels like it’s on the ceiling when she reaches out to try to steady herself on it.

Kara’s already calling for help, and Alex is yelling in her ear. 

The next time Lena comes to awareness, she’s in a private room at the hospital she owns. She’s alone, attached to a heart monitor and saline bag.

Her first thought is to leave. 

Lena removes her intravenous line all on her own, fumbling with bandages to cover the spot where a nurse must have stuck it in. But by the time she does all of that, she realizes that she’s very tired. 

She curls up under the thick red blanket on her bed, wondering if Alex or Kara even bothered waiting around for a few minutes once she was in the hands of the hospital staff. 

There’s faint morning sunlight streaming through the windows, and that means she must have slept through the night. 

She’s startled when Alex suddenly bursts through the door with Nia at her back. 

“We’re both here,” Alex announces. “We’re here to help you, Lena. We came in after Kara, but we have no idea how to reach her — it’s like we’re all so cut off from each other— like everything is constantly shifting.” 

There’s a brief flicker of brightness in Alex’s eyes, which fades gradually as she approaches the bed. “How do you feel?” she asks. “We had to fight with the hospital staff to get them to let us in.”

Lena feels confused, as if she’s been misdirected from an important thought, but she chalks it up to the fuzziness that she usually experiences after passing out. 

“Hey, Lena, are you okay?” Nia asks. 

Nia, although she’s only known Lena a short while, is much more comfortable with touch than Alex, and scoots onto the edge of the bed to offer a hug. “Is hugging okay?” Nia asks, hesitating because Alex must have told her all about what happened at Lena’s office. 

To her own embarrassment, Lena practically throws herself into the hug, holds on tight in ways she never has before with anyone other than Kara. She’s vulnerable, even though she _shouldn’t_ and _can’t_ afford to be. Tears prick her eyes as she parts from Nia. 

Nia grins from ear to ear at Lena’s receptivity and gestures for Alex to sit down. “All of the guys are here too, but we left them in the waiting room. Kelly said she’s on her way, and Kara—“

Kara enters the hospital room and stands at the door as if she’s terrified of setting off another negative reaction in Lena. 

“Lena, hey, I didn’t mean to do... well—whatever it is I did,” Kara softly conveys, sounding close to tears. “I just wanted to come in here and say that—“ 

Kara seems lost. She hangs her head and pouts, then fusses with her glasses as she stands uncertainly in the doorway — as if she’s not sure if she should come in or go out. 

Mind still not made up, Kara continues to wait, long enough that anything else she might say is cut off by the sudden sound of footsteps and two voices behind them. 

“Hey, we were in the middle of a session. We came as soon as we heard,” Kelly breathlessly explains, and of all the people Lena expects to see tagging along with the therapist, the last person she would guess is her _mother._

“I’m not on your emergency contact list,” Lillian states. “I found out through Kelly.” She freezes in the doorway, rigid in posture and visibly overwhelmed by the presence of everyone in the hospital room. 

Lena softly blurts the first thing that comes to her mind. “You’re in therapy?”

Lillian fixes the collar on her coat, as if using it to block the judgment of anyone else. “I’m doing it for you, and because it proves to everyone that I’m committed to making changes in my life. Given that your brother tried to level yet _another_ city block, I felt that attending a session today would be a good idea.”

Alex seems quietly impressed and a little surprised, cocking her head as she re-considers Lillian. 

“I’ve also been going to therapy with Kelly,” Nia reveals, never one to hold back or feel afraid of sharing any aspect of herself or personal situation. “It’s helped me to deal with some lingering body dysmorphia issues. I feel more confident now. Therapy is a good thing and anyone who stigmatizes it or doesn’t see the benefits is just afraid of their own emotions.”

Lena happens to be one of those people. She hates the idea of therapy, but in some other respects she also envies Nia and wishes she could be more like her. 

Lena glances at her mother, expecting to see a smirk or the hint of a laugh in her face, but Lillian appears solemn and even nods along in _agreement_ with Nia. 

It’s a sign that Lena must be concussed, or worse off from the attack than she previously assumed.

Lena lowers her bed into less of an incline. She must be pale, and her pulse is a traitor because it fluctuates and everyone notices that on the heart monitor. 

“I’m fine,” Lena pre-empts, irritated by her own lack of composure, and that a nurse comes running in to scold her for removing her IV. 

“What if we have to administer pain medication, Miss Luthor? We aren’t ready to discharge you yet.” 

Lena will later convince the nurse that she _is_ ready, when no one is around to hear her utter several threats and pull weight as the owner of this hospital. 

“I don’t like pain meds,” Lena quietly grunts. “They make my skin crawl.”

“Well, how about some breakfast?” The nurse flounces out and back in again with a tray of food, better than the standard hospital cuisine. 

Lena hates how everyone present looks at her, prompts her to eat and get well.

“So how did you even manage to remove your own IV without getting any blood on yourself?” Alex quietly asks, in a bid to lower the tension and worry in the room. It’s a _stupid_ question and they both know it. 

Alex has a medical background and could easily do it. This is all just an attempt to make lighter conversation. 

“Sounds like a trick I’d like to master,” Alex considers. “Could come in handy.” 

“Oh no you don’t,” Kara remarks, finally feeling comfortable enough to move to the side of the spacious room where there are couches. “I know how much you hate hospitals, but no.” 

“I second that, Alex,” Kelly adds, finger in the air as she gives her opinion. 

Lena wonders if Kelly and Alex have gotten closer — if they are in a relationship, or on the verge of realizing deeper feelings for one another. 

Alex grins — a little dimly, but still a grin as she eyes Lena — maybe trying to show her that they’re on the same side, bonded over this relatively trivial issue against Kara and Kelly. 

In any case, Alex won’t leave Lena’s side, and she throws worried glances back and forth between Lena and Kara. She seems desperate to be the glue that keeps them all together right now — but Lena is still wary of everyone’s motives. 

If they didn’t need Lena’s help, would they still be here right now? 

Lena doubts that Kara would. As it is, Kara’s fidgeting in the corner like she wants to leave, but can’t figure out a polite way to do it. 

“Hey, Lena taught me how to remove nail polish from my new sofa without damaging it,” Nia pipes up, distracting Lena from her thoughts. “That was a really useful trick.” 

The thread of this whole conversation leads them in strange directions, with Lillian giving a variety of bizarre life lessons, including how to use a blowtorch for at least ten different purposes. Nia seems to be taking notes. 

Lena lies down and half listens to the banter with her eyes shut. 

These have been some of the loneliest days of her life, and though it’s odd to fall asleep in a room full of voices that belong to people that she should hate, Lena manages it. 

She even sleeps peacefully - but it’s the last good sleep she will have for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Lena signs herself out of the hospital against the recommendation of the doctors and returns to L-Corp, where DEO agents are already stationed on every floor. 

She rides the elevator up to her executive suite, and finds her dry cleaning waiting for her on a silver rack, which one of her assistants must have brought in at her mother’s direction. Nearby, there are many of her other personal possessions that she previously kept at the Baldwin. 

Lena showers and changes into fresh clothes — a navy fitted suit and Gucci heels. Afterwards, she slides in behind her desk to review a waiting stack of paperwork. It’s _almost_ like her usual morning routine, broken up by a few phone calls and a brief pause for coffee. 

_Almost._

In the background, on her flat screen TV, the news from CatCo drawls on, talking about the children killed in yesterday’s attack. 

Lena’s hand stills and she puts down her pen, then she abandons her paperwork and steps out onto the balcony with her coffee. 

The sun glints off the metal panels on a building, hitting her right in the eyes, but the tears that Lena sheds have little to do with the sun. She sits and sips her coffee while she gazes down at the city that she’s worked so hard to improve, the place she’s called home for the past several years, and tries to think of what else she can do to make it better. 

Part of her is hoping to see Kara while she’s out here, even if the idea of that comes with a lot of other feelings—more bitterness than ever before. 

As if directly fulfilling her wishes, Kara flies around one of the highest buildings in the city, heads towards L-Corp, and alights on the balcony. 

“Lena,” Kara breathes, and steps forward, pulling her into an embrace that makes Lena stiffen, but only for a split second until she yields to it in complete confusion. 

“Hey, Lena, I need you to realize that whatever is going on here, we’re still in it _together,_ okay? It’s like I don’t have full control. I give into my anger too much. I know what I’m saying is valid, and the decisions I’m making are ones that seem _logical_ in the moment — but we just keep arguing and it’s not really my fault. It’s just... we both clearly have a lot to process—“

Lena can’t hear Kara. It’s almost like her voice is underwater, and Lena frowns because what stands out most to her is the part where Kara says, “it’s not really my fault.”

It twists Lena’s stomach a little that Kara’s once again choosing not to hold herself accountable, and she’s too exhausted for this—another conversation that goes nowhere. 

“Look, Kara, If Alex sent you here talk - which I’m sure she did - it’s unnecessary. We’re adults and we can figure out how to work together without liking one another. We did it before,” Lena insists and flippantly motions to Kara’s suit, reminding her of all the times she argued with Supergirl prior to finding out about her identity. 

If her eyes linger a little bit on Kara’s pants, it’s only because she’s just noticed they’re new. 

“What happened to your skirt?” Lena asks.

Kara glances down at her pants and blinks, as if she hadn’t noticed them before either. “Brainy,” she supplies. “He used your other template and created a new suit for me with a couple of enhancements. This is supposed to help... keep me focused?” 

Kara sounds a little confused by her own statement, but continues on. “With the escalating conflict with Lex, we felt it was time for an upgrade.” 

Lena’s mouth waters over Kara — all toned muscle that the suit somehow accentuates. “ _Um_ -mmm—up— upgrade,” she mutters. “Right.”

She _can't_ and _won't_ forgive Kara, so why is staring like this, a little weak kneed and wet between the thighs? Why can’t her body listen to her mind when it declares that Kara is off limits? 

Everything that Kara is saying to her now is coming through at a delay and in a jumble—something about a ceremony? 

Lena’s eyes are wandering in full distraction and she’s playing with her hands — a bad habit that is usually only an issue when she’s working out a problem in her head, but also when she’s thinking about touching Kara. 

Kara is talking about a memorial for the children who lost their lives in the bombing, and a peace pole monument that will be erected at their local school. She’s explaining that Lena has been invited as a special guest.

It’s sobering enough that Lena glances up sharply, no longer concentrating so intently on Kara’s calf muscles and quads.

“Of course I’ll attend,” Lena says, although perhaps she should be wary of the event, only because Lex might see it as a perfect target for another attack. “But let’s not make my attendance public knowledge, just in case it draws Lex’s attention. When is it?” 

“A few days from now,” Kara informs her, following her into the office as Lena sweeps back inside, mostly to bring an end to her own hungry staring. “William Dey is going to write an article about it.” 

Lena slips behind her desk, all formalities now, and pleased that she’s finally keeping it together. 

“So how are things at CatCo?” Lena asks, determined to have one neutral conversation with Kara. “I saw that sales have been up, but I attribute that to the recent tragedies, rather than the changeover in leadership.”

“Oh, yeah, everything has been going fine,” Kara says a bit too sweetly, mustering a smile that’s a lie all on all its own, but she follows it up with the truth of the situation. “To be honest, Andrea Rojas is a bit of an egomaniac. She hates me, and her husband is even is worse than her. William Dey. He acts like he isn’t threatened by the fact his wife is his boss, but secretly I think he resents it. He jokes about the fact that she wouldn’t take his name. He’s that type of guy.” 

Kara tips her head to the side and laughs, her tone light and pained. “Not to stick my nose in anyone else’s business, but I bet they eventually get divorced. I really hope that happens sooner rather than later. Andrea gives him all of the best assignments to keep him happy, and she’s set up a chain of command so I answer to him. I’ve been relegated to writing about some upcoming pickle festival. Honestly, it’s _fine._ I’m really not complaining. We have enough going on with Lex, and I don’t need to be worried about writing deadlines, too. Then again, it is a little hard to deal with Dey constantly mocking me. I can’t tell if the pickle festival assignment is just some kind of chauvinistic joke on his part, or what—"

This conversation almost reminds Lena of the types of conversations they used to have as friends, prior to when she purchased CatCo. 

Kara’s blushing a little in embarrassment and shifting awkwardly, looking much more like a reporter than Supergirl, even in the suit—especially as she confides in Lena all about her recent struggles at work. 

Except now Lena finds herself asking bold questions, with a touch of testiness in her voice. “You don’t have a crush on your new boss, do you?” 

It’s Kara’s fidgeting on the spot that Lena doesn’t like — it’s the blush in her cheeks when she speaks about the duo that Lena recently appointed. 

“What—no—I mean— _definitely not_ ,” Kara firmly states, a little defensive and wounded by the critical way Lena is staring at her. “I don’t have a crush. Why would you even jump to that conclusion based on what I said?” 

They are both suddenly angry again, and Lena realizes she’s only asked about Kara’s new boss because she misses the way they used to see each other daily at CatCo. 

Every time they bumped into each other at the water cooler, or any time Kara came over to talk, they flirted shamelessly and found any excuse to touch each other. 

“It was just a question, but it seems like I can’t even ask those anymore. Like we really can’t engage in polite or trivial conversation,” Lena says in a clipped voice, her face hard and lip set in a tight line. 

“So what do we _do,_ Lena? Avoid each other for the rest of time? That’s impractical,” Kara complains, and casually lifts a paperweight from Lena’s desk, as if it will help her form her arguing points. 

It’s a glass bauble with a tiny succulent trapped inside, preserved forever but fixed and never changing - like this situation with Kara.

Total annihilation would be a better option, Lena bets - _never_ crossing paths with Kara again. But as she wrenches the bauble out of Kara’s hand and makes physical contact, there’s a strange little jolt of energy between them. 

It’s a spark that starts a reaction, and they both move towards each other hastily, as if the courage for this impulsive act will only last so long. 

Kara places a hand on Lena’s face, rushes into a hard and fast kiss, and it’s better than Lena ever imagined — breath stealing, messy and charged by requited if complex feelings. 

It’s what they should have done in Lena’s car the other night and many other times during their long friendship. Kara tucks a hand under Lena and lifts, then carries her across the office to the sofa while they continue to kiss. 

It’s perfect until it’s all interrupted by Alex barging in and coming to a halt as she notices them. 

Lena is just standing behind her desk again, focused on Kara, and there’s a whisper of a kiss that she can still feel on her skin, even though they clearly haven’t moved _at all._

Lena sits down abruptly, hands splaying over her desk as she breathes, entirely shaken by the powerful fantasy. Kara seems out of sorts, too, jittery enough for Alex to ask, “Did I interrupt something?”

When Kara gives a dejected and slow shake of her head, Alex hurries over to Lena’s desk and throws down what looks to be a floor plan. “I think I found something by the water front. I was going through the drive you gave us, Lena, and it seems like while Eve worked for you, she made a sizable donation to a charity that apparently used the money on a building. Nothing else.” 

Alex is excited as she points to the document on the table.

Lena is still recovering, cloaking herself up in her anger — feeling both ashamed and pathetic for imagining a kiss, all while Alex drones on—

“We already checked on that building once before and found it totally empty. Our contact at the charity organization told us that they were in the process of planning for an upcoming renovation,” Alex continues with enthusiasm. “But six months later those renovations still haven’t begun, so I got the original building plan, and as you can see here, there’s much more to the place than meets the eye. What do you think could be down there?”

Lena ponders the blueprint and tries to make her mind work like Lex’s — but the possibilities that come to mind are all grim. “An arsenal,” she mutters conclusively. “Lex had this idea long ago, but I thought it was just an idea. Naive of me to think that he wouldn’t put it into action.” 

Gathering up the document, Lena passes it to Alex and jerks her head in the direction of the door. “Well, are we going to check it out?” 

Kara tosses a sidelong glance at Alex, as though prompting her to intervene—to prevent Lena from going. 

“After everything that’s been going on with you, it might be best if you sit this one out,” Alex gently says. “You’re already doing enough by giving us insight into Lex.” 

“Don’t do this. We both know I’ll be an asset regardless of what you encounter down there,” Lena argues, refusing to be put off by Alex’s strong opposition to accepting her help. “I know where it is. I’ll take my own car if I have to.” 

Alex seems altogether defeated before they even have a full argument, and Lena is the first to head to the door.

Alex drags her feet as she follows, several steps behind in her reluctance. 

About twenty minutes later, they find themselves stuck in traffic, Lena and Alex in the front seat and Kara in the back. 

“I could have flown there already and returned by now,” Kara points out, toying with the seatbelt so much that she accidentally pulls the metal clasp off. “Why didn’t you go down Chester street?” 

“And _this_ is the reason l made you sit in the back, because I knew you would be a backseat driver,” Alex teases, both hands on the wheel as she stretches forward to try to figure out what is slowing down the cars in front of them. 

Lena smirks, arching an eyebrow in the rear view mirror and glimpsing the expression on Kara’s face. 

Kara is cute when she sulks—still somehow bright and sunny, even as she rubs her lips together in a not-quite pout. 

Lena gets a little joy out of seeing it, and not even for vindictive reasons. But as much as she’s attracted — as much as these little moments take Lena back to better times when she was capable of feeling her heart lift with happiness whenever Kara was around, she _can’t_ reconcile with Kara. 

Her face falls and she refuses to glance Kara’s way again as she allows her anger to surge back up into the hollow space where her love for her friends used to be in her heart. It’s such a strong and overpowering emotion that Lena's skull aches from it and the vein in her forehead throbs visibly. 

Their drive takes much longer than anticipated and the place is crowded by the time they arrive, with tourists slipping in and out of restaurants and the new arcade by the water front.

Lena is the first to escape the uncomfortable car ride, and the foot traffic seems to pick up where the vehicle traffic left off—swarming around her and making it difficult to move.

The building where they are headed is further away, in a less frequented spot, but still in a location where it would be easy to conceal any comings-and-goings, given the popularity of the area. 

It’s also a place where there will be a high civilian casualty count if any government agency decides to storm Lex’s arsenal. 

Alex takes the lead as they enter the building, where new sheetrock covers the walls in preparation for paint. 

It’s a bare space, except for three desks and a single chair tucked out of the way in a corner. 

The only touch of personality in the decor comes from one wall, and trim along the ceiling — gold leaf on fresh white paint. 

Lena finds herself looking up, while Alex puzzles over the decorative panels on the one wall. 

“Can you figure this out?” Alex asks quietly, gesturing to the three panels that might be removable, if they can figure out how.

Each panel has an embellishment — three human silhouettes in total. 

Lena recognizes the designs from one of Lex’s later journal entries. 

She touches them each in turn, knowing that this elaborate display is all for her sake. 

The first silhouette shows a child holding a mirror, the next is a cloaked figure, and the last is the overman or the superman. 

“It’s a reference to the philosopher Nietzsche,” Lena explains. “Lex always reminded me that the superman Nietzsche described in his work was meant to be a human. A _man_ who managed to transcend to another level through knowledge.” 

Her finger traces the muscled outline of the overman, but then her hand drifts to the child with the mirror. 

She remembers the section of the same title in Nietzsche’s _Thus Spoke Zarathustra_ — 

_Lost are my friends; the hour hath come for me to seek my lost ones!_

One of Lex’s favorites. 

The passage describes Zarathustra descending the mountain to teach both his enemies and his friends.

Lena presses on the mirror and the panel slides up, disappearing above them and opening up a new space to their eyes. 

“Lex must have another lesson to teach me,” Lena mutters. 

All her life, she has been Lex’s student—even until the moment of his death. 

Now, as she descends into the darkened hall that slopes underneath her feet, Lena reassures herself that she’s the one with the knowledge to bestow. _The student always surpasses the teacher._ She’s prepared to face whatever threat lies ahead.

As they near the end of the hall, Kara cuts in front, and Lena shoots her a scathing glare, caught up in the way Kara exhales as she passes. 

It’s enough of a distraction that Lena doesn’t see the sudden creeping movement in the darkness. 

A garish light floods the room ahead just as soon as they enter it, standing together in a tight formation. 

Lex stands above them on a railed balcony. “Ah, Lena. Welcome to my private, if not humble abode,” he grins. “I see you brought company. I do hope you all enjoy the entertainment, although I must say I have the best seats in the house.” 

Kicking back in a velvet chair, Lex rests one booted foot on a matching ottoman, then he engages a force field around him so he can watch undisturbed — but not before Alex fires three rounds of bullets at him. 

Lex deflects the fire with his gauntlet and smirks as though he has just been batting at mosquitoes. 

“Kara, you get Lex,” Alex orders, then spins around as a crawling serpentine robot latches onto the back of her leg. 

Alex shoots the robot off, and Kara flies through the air to find a way through Lex’s energy field. 

The arsenal is filled with crates and Lena wastes no time in the opening them, but she’s disappointed when her hand collides with a stack of paper rather than a blaster or grenade. She and Alex move in opposite directions, chased by more robotic snakes that spew acidic liquids. 

“The showdown I’ve been waiting for,” Lex remarks when Kara is hovering in front of him, but he seems more like a bored king on his throne instead of a crazed and homicidal villain. “Oh, I dreamed of this moment for so long, but you know what? Sometimes dreams change. They evolve with us as we grow as individuals, and this is no exception. I have a new dream, Supergirl. You see, you exposed me to the world and I think it’s my turn to do the same to you.“

Kara finds a breach in the force field and exploits it, channeling energy from her eyes into the metal railing. She delivers a well-aimed punch and then she’s on the balcony with Lex. 

He faces off against her, touching the belt on the metallic suit he wears, so he can take a swing at Kara’s face and actually make an impact with his fist. 

Meanwhile, Alex yells out to get Lena’s attention. “It’s Eve!” she declares, pointing towards a room next to the one with all of the bots. “She’s controlling them.” 

Lex knocks Kara back and then spares a glance down at Lena. “Like my new toys, Lena? I thought it would remind you of Indiana Jones. The room with the snake pit. Remember how terrified you were when we watched that movie together as kids?” 

Kara lands a blow to Lex’s face, and he has to crick his neck around and adjust his helmet. Then they really let into each other with blasts of pure energy, enough to annihilate. In Lex’s case, it’s Kryptonite, but Kara activates the protective features on her newer suit. 

Lena locates a panel on the wall. By process of elimination and by calculating a few fast permutations in her head, she figures out the code to the adjoining room. She then destroys the lock mechanism and uses the faulty wiring to make a spark, starting a fast burning electrical fire. It will fry the snakes that Alex has been picking off one by one with her gun. 

The fight between Kara and Lex escalates as Alex storms into the room where Eve is at the controls.

Eve tries to make a run for it, dodging around a desk. 

The fire from the main room is spreading faster than expected, and when Lex disappears through a door, Kara hesitates to follow because Alex and Lena are in danger. 

“ _Go!_ ” Alex shouts when Kara continues to wait for a conflicted moment.

Then Kara is gone, and it’s just Lena, Alex and Eve in a room that is rapidly becoming a heat trap. 

The space is filled with boxes of paperwork and a computer, which catches Alex’s eye. 

Eve looks smug, even as she cowers in a corner.

“You look awfully pleased for a woman who my brother has now used and discarded _twice,_ ” Lena coolly notes, standing across from Eve with her arms folded. “I suppose Lex came and rescued you from whatever cesspit of a situation you found yourself in after his passing — but when are you going to realize that you’re disposable to him?” 

Eve lifts her eyebrows and pokes her finger in the direction of the computer screen, which Alex is already glued to, reading all about Lena’s harun-el trials—and specifically about her test subject, Adam. 

“Lena, what is all of this?” Alex asks in disbelief and horror. “You used human test subjects?”

“I thought my procedure would work,” Lena softly argues, already experiencing that gut wrenching feeling she associates with all of her memories of Adam. “There was always the chance it wouldn’t, but _he_ convinced me it would be worth the risk—” 

“You — you killed a man,” Alex stutters out, and her hand is already itching to go for her holster, at the same time as her other hand reaches towards her cuffs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this right now, but after we deal with Eve, I’m going to have to ask you to turn yourself in.”

Lena’s mouth drops open. She's devastated that Alex won’t listen, won’t even give her the chance to explain her terrible mistake. 

This is exactly what Lex wants. It’s the perfect set up on Lex’s part. 

He figured Lena would come here, and this whole plan had never been about showing off his arsenal, or battling it out with Supergirl once and for all. 

Lex wanted to lure Lena here for the purpose of incriminating her. 

“Just give me the chance to explain,” Lena quietly pleads, but Alex’s horrified look is still in place, and Lena knows that no matter what she says, it won’t be enough. 

As she glances around, Lena notices the sheer glee on Eve’s face. 

Then Lena acts impulsively. She slips her hand into her suit pocket and grabs a piece of nanotech she’s been working on. In a fast maneuver, she injects the tech into Eve’s wrist with a smaller than palm-sized device that makes a sound like a stapler. 

“What did you just do?” Eve shrilly asks, blonde curls still bouncing from snapping her neck down to look at the injection site. 

“I gave you your old job back. You work for _me_ again,” Lena announces indifferently, stern-faced and calm, in spite of how the whole situation is unraveling. “This was a little something I planned to save for Lex, but it’s not perfect yet. It will migrate to your brain, and once in place, I’ll be in control of your dopamine outputs, where you direct your attention, and how or when you act.”

Lena’s casual summary only makes Eve blink. 

“I can’t control your _every_ move, but I should be able to assert moderate to _nearly_ total control,” Lena explains. “Failing that, there is a self-destruct option built into the tech, which could leave you in a vegetative state if you choose to defy me.”

Eve looks appropriately stunned, too aghast to talk, and Lena is grim as she turns to Alex. 

Alex is also shocked and staring at Lena as if realizing who she is for the first time — someone powerful, not to be crossed.

“Even if we're not friends anymore, I don’t _want_ to be your enemy,” Lena stresses, but when Alex seems to go for her cuffs again, she feels she has no choice. 

Whether it happens in self defense or she acts prematurely, Lena isn’t sure - but she knocks Alex out with a Luthor punch and snatches up a compact image inducer from Lex’s stockpile. 

She uses the image inducer on Eve, altering her appearance until she’s the double of Alex. “Henceforth, you are posing as Alex Danvers. I can use my nanotech to provide you with a biography of Alex — a mind upload. You’ll fill in for her at work and follow all of my orders. Make no mistake: you have no power now, and if you ever act out of turn, I will end you. You might look like Alex, but I am the new head of the DEO.”

Lena uses another image inducer on Alex, transforming her features to look like Eve. “Let’s get Agent Danvers back to L-Corp,” she instructs.

Lena destroys all evidence of her test subject, the Harun-el trials she conducted secretively, and other documents related to her black budgets. 

Eve wastes no time gathering Alex up—not that she _can._

In the other room, Kara swoops down to extinguish the raging fire with her frost breath. 

Lena isn’t sure how long she will be able to keep up this masquerade with Eve and Alex, but it should be long enough to do the only thing left she needs to do — _defeat Lex._

After that, Lena doesn’t care what happens—not to her reputation, or her company. She doesn’t care if the ultimate cost is her life. 

Walking into the main room of the arsenal, Lena stands on the thin blanket of ice and stares at Kara.

Kara’s eyebrows slant downward and she breathes in sharply. Lena thinks she’s never seen a more wounded and world weary expression on the hero’s face. 

Lena’s heart sinks and she swings back, unwilling to approach and talk. She wonders how she got here, to this awful point of no return — surely not in the same way other Luthors did. She wants to be good, has _always_ wanted it more than anything — but if she wants to bring an end to Lex terrorizing the city, she’s going to have to make sacrifices. 

Alex won’t be able to stop Lex without her, and if Lena is in prison somewhere, she’s certain that Lex will win. 

There’s no way out for her, so Lena has to embrace this choice—has to give up everything for it. She has to be cold and ruthless now — she can’t afford to be slowed down or weakened by her emotions. 

“Lex escaped,” Kara says, battle worn and dusty from the fight.

“At least we got Eve,” Lena damningly lies, gesturing to a limp Alex. “And I doubt Lex will come back for her.”

“We’ll take her to L-Corp,” Eve volunteers, managing a good imitation of Alex’s inflections. “I don’t want to bring her into the DEO just yet — not until we’re finished getting information out of her.” 

If Kara notices her sister is conspicuously lacking a gun, she doesn’t say anything about it. She just gives a slow nod, glances around at the destruction, and rests her hands on her hips. “Okay,” she softly agrees. “Maybe Eve will know Lex’s plan to expose me. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to have a happy ending, in case anyone has concerns at this point.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ups and downs in the next chapters, but it will get better after chapter 14.

“I really don’t want to kiss Kelly Olsen,” Eve complains, perching herself at the end of a lab table and picking at her nails while she watches Lena with Alex.

“Do me a favor and don’t,” Alex calls out from where she’s being confined within the same space where Reign once stayed. “Fake sick if you have to, I don’t care, but please don’t make out with my new girlfriend.” 

“You would think she would notice I’m not into it, but she must be _that_ attracted to you. Totally blinded by her feelings,” Eve blabs on, then unwraps a lollipop and sucks on it with a shrug. 

All in all, Lena isn’t doing a great job of enacting her bigger plans. So far she hasn’t forced Eve to do more than check in at the DEO and go on a date with Kelly — just to avoid raising suspicion.

In the last few days, Lena has mostly been hiding out at L-Corp and burying herself in work while she keeps a close eye on Alex. 

Kara has been preoccupied at CatCo and trusts Alex to handle the interrogation with Eve, which is supposedly ongoing. 

In spite of her current status as a captive, Alex seems relatively calm. She paces around most of the time, eats the trays of food that Eve brings to her, and sometimes tries to get Lena to talk to her. 

The only thing Alex _doesn’t_ do is listen when Lena tries to explain her budgets or justify her research methods.

It’s a tolerable arrangement, for the most part. 

But Lena hates the way Alex looks at her now — not in open contempt, but with fear and more pity than Lena can stomach.

Lena tries to concentrate on what she's doing with the mechanisms in her hands, and ignores Eve and Alex until it becomes necessary to interact. 

As she pulls up a chair opposite Alex and takes a digital fingerprint, Lena says nothing and avoids eye contact. 

Alex holds out her hand and studies Lena, eyes sweeping over her face, perhaps for some clue that she’s still capable of being reasoned with, talked down from the edge of this precipice — this jumping off point into the great unknown of morally questionable and dangerous activity. 

“In spite of what you’ve done, there is still a way back from it if you let me help you,” Alex whispers. “Those budgets set off so many alarm bells. I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Lena. Going to all of these extremes with your research—”

“I’ve already told you, everything I’ve done is for the betterment of humanity,” Lena quietly insists, sticking out her chin as she completes her task of taking fingerprints. “My projects all followed the government’s specified guidelines and built on cancer research studies I started long ago with Jack Spheer. When I began working with the harun-el, I concealed some information, including the fact that Adam had died, but Lex made it all seem so much worse than it is. I only want to _help_ people.” 

Lena transfers the set of Alex’s prints onto another silicon device that will enable Eve to access any fingerprint-locked computer or door at the DEO. It’s one of several devices Lena has fashioned to ensure that no one will find out about what she’s done, at least not right away. 

“We humans have a lot of weaknesses that hold us back,” Lena softly continues. “I thought our physical limitations were bad enough, but there’s also the _emotional_ ones. People are governed by feelings. Anger, hurt, sadness, rage. My newest technologies fix all of that. And I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I’ve come without my previous experiments, including those that you condemn me for conducting.” 

Lena drops her silicon device into a soft storage box, then looks up at Alex. “All I want is to live in a world where we are capable of defending ourselves from outside threats, and internal ones — a world where we have total security and can actually _trust_ one another.”

Alex reacts to that, still concerned but firmer now. “It’s hard to trust,” she acknowledges. “Especially when you’ve been lied to continuously. But you can’t just _control_ everyone. I don’t know what frightens me more — all of your secret budgets for the mind control tech, or all of the documents I saw that prove you’ve figured out how to replicate Lex’s device that turns the sun red —"

Lena regrets ever dabbling with that, although it had a purpose at the time. 

“I was just trying to understand how it works so I could experiment with more ways to stop it!” Lena shouts almost hysterically. “Why won’t you believe me? All of that research was my way of protecting myself in case Lex ever proved to be a problem again. It dates back to Lex’s first conviction.” 

Tremors go through her hands and Lena feels like she’s on the verge of crying. But she won’t allow anyone to see that. 

Lena turns her back to Alex, moves to her standing desk and stares at a computer screen. “Eve, I want you to report to the DEO. Get me all of the files related to L-Corp, Obsidian Tech, Lex, and my mother’s consultancy. If there are active projects that are in any way counterproductive to my work, bring a halt to them. And ask Supergirl to meet with me this afternoon. She and I have unfinished business.” 

“ _Lena_ —“ 

There’s a note of anxiety and protectiveness in Alex’s voice, a desperation to end all of this before it gets out of hand. “Please, after all we’ve been through together, don’t go any further down this path. Don’t become a _villain._ ”

That word sets Lena off in ways that Alex can’t possibly understand — or maybe she does understand.

“Eve, let’s go,” Lena commands. 

Lena strides to the elevator, locking Alex up with a click of a button. She doesn’t say anything in response — she’s too shaken for that. 

Eve obediently and bouncily follows, standing beside her in the elevator. 

“Alex Danvers needs to learn to watch her mouth,” Eve snickers, then seems to remember she looks identical to Alex and therefore has the same mouth. She rubs at her lips as if re-living an awkward or sloppy kiss with Kelly. 

Lena would like Eve to _leave_ right away without any further discussion, but she fails to enforce that, or suppress her assistant’s ability to speak.

They walk into Lena’s office and Eve helps herself to a donut, then sits cross-legged on the coffee table. 

“I’m shocked, but it seems like you’re _finally_ embracing your Luthor name,” Eve remarks. “You should kill Supergirl for what she’s done to you. You might even outdo Lex with your villainy—”

“I’m not a villain,” Lena firmly declares, crossing her arms as she becomes defensive. “I don’t want to kill Supergirl. I just want her to experience the same hurt she inflicted on me. And soon enough she will.” 

It’s a forceful threat, one that hasn’t been premeditated but still rings with so much conviction that Eve steps back, a little frightened until she almost smiles. 

“You’re the new host,” Eve breathes, taking in Lena’s suddenly bright eyes with admiration and fright. “Of course. It makes a lot of sense, given how you’re tapped into the minds of so many with that latest virtual reality tech.” 

“ _What_?” Lena snaps, her forehead crinkling in askance. 

“Nevermind,” Eve says, but she’s clearly pleased to have an upper hand. 

Lena flips a switch on the device that’s connected to Eve, delivering a tiny shock to her system. 

“I suggest you tell me or I’ll do much worse than this,” Lena warns. 

“Leviathan,” Eve blurts out, gasping from the pain and her own inability to withhold any information. “You’re the host! It affects us all, because it is the face of everyone and no one. If you are looking for the leader, look no further than yourself.” 

It sounds like Eve is quoting a person, either Lex or someone with intimate ties to Leviathan. 

Lena has some recollection of an organization by that name — though she can’t pinpoint the source of her information or when she first learned of it. Perhaps it was something in the news, or something Lex said, or another experience she’s forgotten. 

“I have no connection to Leviathan,” Lena quietly informs Eve. “You’re mistaken.”

Eve seems to know better than to debate it with her. “Whatever you say, boss,” she shrugs, then departs for the DEO with Lena’s orders, a number of devices to protect her identity, and an enhanced image inducer in place that can counter X-Ray vision.

Lena slides in behind her desk and tiredly scrolls through emails. She spends most of the afternoon in a detached state, monitoring Eve from afar. 

It’s two o’clock in the afternoon before Lena is interrupted.

Kara clears her throat as she steps into the office. “You wanted to see me?” she asks.

For a fleeting moment, Lena glances up at Kara and wants to confide in her — all about Alex and Eve, and about how she intends to take down Lex. She wants to press her face into Kara’s neck and hold on tight as she confesses to _everything_ – not just what she’s done, but also to her feelings. To the love she still damnably feels for Kara, even after all of the constant deceit and fighting. The love she thought she could lie about to ensure Kara’s safety. 

But now Lena can’t tell her anything. Now she is _actually_ Kara’s enemy, and the worst part about it is that she’s going to have to _pretend_ to be her friend. 

Lex wants Lena to be alone and friendless — but she needs him to believe she still has Supergirl and the entire DEO behind her. Otherwise, Lex will see Lena as easy pickings, someone he’s that much closer to breaking down. She needs to fight Lex using his own Luthor methods. 

No matter how many times Lena schemes and strategically thinks about the future, it’s all the same. She can come up with an endless number of plots to take down Lex once and for all. But she’s going to lose Kara. 

Another damaged part of Lena is still reeling from Kara’s recent behavior, especially after finding out about Lex. That part of her still aches, and even longs for a mutually assured destruction. To see Kara humbled, broken down in the same human ways Lena has recently broken down. 

It’s _wrong_ and Lena knows it. Her head throbs with a strange pressure, a physical pain that brings out dark thoughts — at least until Kara comes closer and Lena is able to shake them off.

“I assume this is about us. Not about Lex,” Kara says, hanging back and peering around the office, as if she doesn’t know where to focus, or which problem she should discuss with Lena first. Her voice drops to a whisper. “I know we’ve had our differences, and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy to overcome them, but I _want_ to try. Alex was right the other day. And I can do better. You deserve better.”

Kara’s lip quivers and she stares down at her hands, looking very small and uncertain. “The truth is I wasn’t just upset about Lex,” she mutters. “I was upset because for the last few years, I really thought you felt the same way about me. Instead of dealing with my emotions related to your rejection and processing them like an adult, I found another reason to be angry at you. I’m _sorry._ ” 

Lena places her hands on her armrest and leans back against her chair. She could cry over this speech, how little it is and how late, but she just sits still and gazes up at Kara, drained of all emotion and unable to respond. She has nothing left to give. 

Kara’s chin trembles and she walks along the floor, pausing every so often to glance back at Lena.

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you the other day, or forced you to come back to National City. It’s just… as Supergirl, I feel like I am constantly treading water and trying to keep my head up,” Kara breathes out defeatedly. “I don’t ever get to stop, or someone else suffers.”

Kara hangs her head guiltily. “I started doing all of this to save Alex, but I kept doing it because everyone else in this city depends on me. Every day. It’s such a huge responsibility and sometimes I don’t want it. Sometimes I wish that Supergirl _didn’t_ exist.”

It’s a hard confession for Kara, and it hits Lena with enough force to inspire sympathy, but then a dangerous whisper enters her mind: _End Supergirl. End her existence._

Lena rolls her head forward and she attempts to rid herself of those intrusive thoughts. 

“I actually asked you here to discuss the event at that school,” Lena murmurs, eager to change the subject to see if it will help quiet her vindictive urges. “The peace ceremony. Will you attend with me?”

“Oh — I mean – yeah, sure,” Kara quietly agrees, spinning around towards the opposite wall to conceal her pain. She’s being open and vulnerable, and Lena is deliberately re-directing the conversation. 

But Lena might not have another opportunity like this again — to begin enacting her plan. 

Lena gets to her feet and moves towards Kara, ready to play at her own game of deception – ready to make Kara her friend again.

“Look, I‘m sure it isn’t easy being you,” Lena intones, softening a bit as she looks Kara in the eye. “I didn’t bother to put myself in your cape, or consider how you might be so overburdened in your role as Supergirl that introducing even _one_ more complication might have made your life that much harder.” 

Kara’s eyes shine with appreciation and she nods, falling into Lena’s trap without suspecting anything. 

Lena places her hand on Kara’s arm — a gentle contact that fills her with dread. 

This is just what Kara did to her by pretending to be her friend for so many years, but this revenge doesn’t feel sweet to Lena. Pretending to care is awful and tiring, and the genuine warmth she receives from Kara in return is almost too painful to bear.

“You understand,” Kara whispers gratefully, with a smile that spreads over her face as she hiccups and suppresses tears. 

“I’m trying, Kara,” Lena blandly replies. “I’m _trying_ to understand what you did on a deeper level.”

And she is trying. She’s trying to lie to Kara’s face, and somehow the little role reversal makes it even more difficult for Lena to commiserate with Kara. It hurts and Lena doesn’t want it to continue. 

Kara slips her arms around her in an easy hug, and Lena tenses up because she’s yearned for this affection for months, for an apology, but not like this – not in this twisted way, with too much left unsaid between them.

“Thank you,” Kara breathes with a heartfelt smile. “Thank you for trying.” 

On any given day, Kara is pulled in a thousand different directions, and not just because of the demands of being a hero.

There’s another constant feeling that she can’t fully identify — not until moments of clarity that are so brief that she’s disoriented afterwards. It’s like she’s on autopilot — stuck in a perpetual state of forward motion that she can’t interrupt. 

This is all related to Lena, and Kara chalks the feeling up to the rockiness of their relationship as of late. 

It’s been impossible to concentrate on anything else, and so it makes sense to Kara. It _makes sense_ that she’s just been going through the motions to survive all of the upheaval in her personal life. 

But as she wanders in late to work without her glasses on, Kara realizes her level of distraction is reaching a potentially dangerous level.

She shoves her glasses onto her face before anyone notices her and darts to her desk, just as William Dey exits his private office. 

“Conference room,” William demands, adjusting his blue tie. “Quickly.”

Andrea is already waiting on them, latte in hand while she pores over the latest issue of the magazine. She pays them only a cursory attention as Kara and William settle in the chairs arranged across from her. 

“We want you to write a feature piece,” William proposes, casually leaning back in his chair with his arms folded above his head. “On Miss Luthor. You’ve handled all of the press related to the Luthors in recent years and you have a personal relationship with Lena. You know her better than anyone and a lot of the gossip news outlets are already speculating that she’s developed some kind of stress-related psychosis in the aftermath of her brother’s attacks. We want you to get ahead of them on the story – to not only confirm that it’s true, but go one step further. Discredit Lena Luthor. Call into question all of her recent choices as head of L-Corp—“

“Won’t that also reflect badly on CatCo, Obsidian Tech and all of her other partners and subsidiaries?” Kara blurts, bringing an to Dey’s crazy talk before he can fully explain the purpose of the article. 

She takes personal offense to what he’s proposing, but Kara knows better than to make this about her history with Lena or desire to protect her. 

“If anything, this is a strategic move to protect all of our asses,” Dey insists, broadly gesturing at the office. “It seems like Miss Luthor is having a break with reality and we don’t want it to reflect badly on our products. It’s very important that the public views this as a stress-related response. If speculation continues, our stock value will fall. We need to make it quite clear to the masses that Miss Luthor is in treatment and that she has nothing to do with the day to day operations of her companies at the moment.”

“That would be a _lie,_ ” Kara argues. 

Maybe not a _complete_ lie.

Lately Lena has been experiencing strange episodes where she checks out mid-conversation, and she has gone to a session with Kelly, but that doesn’t equate to what William Dey is suggesting about her. 

“It’s a slight embellishment of the truth,” William insists, and Andrea glances up from her latte, calculatingly observing Kara.

“It’s simple, Kara—either comply, or don’t, but we’ll use your name on the article either way. The public trusts your reporting where it concerns the Luthors.” Andrea finishes off her latte, and waits for William to helpfully discard it, then she smiles and carries on with business. She slides a sheet across the table to Kara. “These are the three main points we want you to hit in your article. Don’t sugar coat them.” 

Kara snatches up the paper, determined not to complete the assignment but to drag it out for as long as possible until she works out how to handle this uncomfortable situation. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kara quietly seethes, and escapes the conference room before her conversation with her bosses becomes confrontational. 

After everything Lena has recently been through, and the small amount of progress they are making, to say Kara is distressed over what Andrea and William are plotting to publish about her would be an understatement. 

Even discussing the problem with Lena might set off a fight, but not telling her could be even more detrimental to their crumbling friendship.

Kara settles down at her desk and tries to put aside all of the stress of her new assignment. 

Instead, she’s overwhelmed by a fear that’s been weighing on her since she found out that Lex knows her identity. As difficult as it’s been working under Andrea and William, it could all be so much worse if she ever loses the ability to just be Kara Danvers — someone with average-sized problems, someone she still mentally separates from Supergirl. 

Kara tries to hold herself together, but she ends up leaving her desk and practically running to the elevator. She can’t stay here — not when her bosses might pressure her to begin work on the article right away. Not when her mind is now wandering to Lena and to thoughts of their most recent conversation. 

Kara must look upset, because Nia—her last remaining ally at work—hurries after her.

“Kara, I’ve been trying to find you all morning!” Nia rushes to get out. “It’s about Lena and her tech. I have an important message from Brainy.” She thrusts a piece of paper into Kara’s hand.

Kara can scarcely read fragments of the note before the words begin to vanish:

_Altering the very fabric of existence. Our reality. Gone. T h e M o n i t o r_

Nia and Kara stare at each other with total awareness for a second, then step into the elevator. 

“I don’t understand. What do we do? I’ve tried everything to get through to Lena, but nothing works! I feel powerless,” Kara softly cries. “Like I can’t even speak my mind when I’m around her, and when I do, there’s _always_ an interruption—“

Kara glances at the note again. This time it’s just a request to check in at the DEO. 

It alarms Kara how she goes from feeling like she has a meaningful and urgent goal, to a suddenly narrower scope — her daily routine at work and stopping Lex. 

That nagging thought is returning— that she’s just going through the motions. 

“What about a dream?” Nia asks. She seems confused, too, but she at least recalls their conversation. “I know it’s a little invasive, but sometimes it’s easier for us to work out our problems in dreams. I could help you on your own — or I could help you to connect with Lena. We would just have to get her permission first.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Kara replies, frowning as she reaches the bottom floor. “But maybe we should wait to involve Lena. Can you come by my place tomorrow night?”

Nia agrees to show up, and Kara thanks her before they part ways. 

Kara flies to the DEO and seeks out Alex, but before she can get to her, Kelly hurries over to talk.

“Hey, Kara, how are you doing?” Kelly asks, picking up on all of Kara’s stress in a single glance.

“To be honest?” Kara laughs weakly. “I would say fine, but you’d know I was lying. I’m a _total_ wreck.”

“I figured you would be upset,” Kelly admits, folding her arms as she eyes the office where Alex seems preoccupied at a computer. “Alex is still acting strangely. She’s not really been herself since she found out about everything you and Lena kept from her.” 

Kara stiffens and then draws herself up to her full height. “Well, I’ll talk to her about it,” she promises, breaking away from the conversation and striding over to Alex’s office space. 

“You wanted to see me?” Kara asks.

Alex beckons her inside and shuts the door behind them. “Yeah. I want to take some new blood samples,” she explains, already reaching for the equipment with Kryptonite needles. “I also have an assignment for you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Kara’s assignment turns out to be a stake-out. She’s meant to be monitoring a location where Lex could show up, but it amounts to standing around in a dark alley behind a strange club for four hours. Lex never appears and Kara waits in the rain until her hair is plastered to her head. 

She goes home after all of this to find Lena waiting for her. 

“Alex insisted,” Lena softly explains, holding up a small bag that shows she’s planning to stay the night. 

In all of the years of their friendship, Kara has deliberately avoided sleepovers because of her secret. There were plenty of times after game nights when she wanted Lena to stay, and it bothers Kara that this is happening _now_ , when Lena can barely stand her. 

Still, seeing Lena in a relaxed environment with her hair down and a little crimped from the day is one of Kara’s favorite sights on earth. 

She’s tongue-tied as she opens her door and allows Lena into the apartment.

Lena immediately sets her bag by the couch and opens the buttons on her jacket. 

“You know what, I’m glad you’re here,” Kara blurts. “This really is the safest place in the city, and it gives us more of an opportunity to mend our friendship. To pick up our conversation where we left off—” 

Kara tries to keep an upbeat attitude and a smile on her face. She doesn’t want to think about every failed attempt they have both made at communication — how many times she tried to explain all of her motives for keeping her identity a secret, and only managed to tell the truth of it in bits and pieces. She feels blocked, especially when she tries to apologize.

Even earlier, Kara wishes she had said _more._

“That’s really why I agreed to come,” Lena murmurs. “To work on our friendship.” She holds out a bottle of wine and Kara grabs it, taking the cue to fill up two glasses. 

Meanwhile, Lena steps into the bathroom and makes herself comfortable for sleeping — in soft lounge pants that Kara would like to touch and a tank top that shows off her beautiful collarbones. 

Kara wanders back to the couch to find Lena lounging and running her fingers through her hair. 

There’s a chaotic undercurrent of nervousness coming from Lena — a rapid heartbeat, even though she seems relaxed. 

Lena accepts a glass of wine, but doesn’t drink right away. Instead she gives a small laugh and angles herself towards Kara, who perches on the couch beside her. 

Lena raises an eyebrow at Kara’s appearance — her wet and ragged hair.

“Oh, I spent the night out in the cold rain. All alone,” Kara tells her, chuckling at how that sounds. 

Lena perks up at that, with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes that dims rapidly to despair. She stands up, finds a towel that Kara’s left out from laundry day, and hands it over. 

“Thanks,” Kara shyly murmurs, using the towel to dry off. 

“No problem.” Lena settles back down, takes a gulp of her wine and refuses to so much as glance in Kara’s direction. “So, should we try to talk?”

Kara wants to tell Lena how much she’s been on her mind, along with every single regret that’s been haunting her over the last six months. 

She would like to move closer to Lena, to gently caress the side of her neck and kiss her — to reconnect on an emotional level but also a very physical one. 

She has to remind herself that Lena doesn’t feel the same way about her. 

Except when they look into each other’s eyes, Lena’s expressive green stare takes Kara away to somewhere else — to a place of peace and calm that Kara has only ever known when she felt completely secure, right before the end of her whole world and civilization. 

Lena’s eyes convey _love_ – they are another kind of home that Kara could live within for the rest of her superhumanly long life. 

“How do we fix our friendship?” Lena asks, in a dull but soft voice. She sticks her face in her wine glass, then drinks deeply again. “Is it even possible?”

“Of course it is,” Kara sighs, and she feels a sudden strength she lacked before — a break-through in the mental fog that’s kept her from easily speaking her mind. “Lena, I know I’ve given you so many reasons and excuses for why I lied. I can’t point to any one thing and say here it is — _this_ is why I did it.”

Kara rubs her lips together, and realizes that all along, she’s just been holding back a simple explanation. 

“I was just afraid to trust,” Kara impulsively breathes out. “To let you know everything about me and my past. To completely let you in. Our friends might have known about Supergirl, but they don’t know me the way _you_ do, Lena. And the people in this city love me because of my powers, but I’ve always felt like—”

Kara’s voice breaks and she briefly stumbles, but decides to say what she feels. 

“Like you love me for who I truly am,” Kara admits. “I liked being your hero as Kara Danvers, and I’m so _sorry_ that I let you down. I really am. I thought I didn’t owe you the truth, that I was doing what was right for me. Keeping _myself_ safe, and my superhero life separate from my personal one with you. But being honest feels so right and so good. I wish I had told you sooner.”

Lena appears to be overwhelmed by the confession and already a little glassy-eyed from the wine. 

“You were afraid to trust,” Lena echoes, mulling over Kara’s words — as if _this,_ above all else, is what she’s needed to hear. 

Setting down her half empty glass, Lena moves into a more comfortable position and lays her head against the back of the sofa. “In the past six months, I did _everything_ I could to get over what you had done,” she whispers. “To distance myself. To move on. But I couldn’t manage it. For better or for worse, we were meant to be in each other’s lives.” 

“For _better,_ ” Kara emphasizes, filling the vacant spot right beside Lena, naturally cuddling into her. “I feel so confused lately, like I’m just drifting through each day and none of it makes any sense. None of it matters. I’m just so _unhappy_ without you in my life, Lena.”

Lena closes her eyes and breathes, exhaling heavily as if she might break down. 

“I might not always be in your life,” Lena says in an angry tone of voice, but then she shudders back a cry and presses her face into Kara’s neck. 

Kara loops her arm tightly around Lena’s back and holds her close. 

Their bodies fit together so well, but Kara feels confused because it seems like Lena is further away from her than ever. Something about Lena’s energy is off, so Kara doubles down on her efforts to smile. 

“Yes, you _will,_ ” Kara argues with such optimism that there’s a timbre in her throat. “I know we can’t just go back to what we had, Lena. But we’re going to get through this because we’re both here, we’re talking to each other again, and I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust going forward. It might have felt like I didn’t care, like we were on different sides, but I’m with you, Lena. I’ll _always_ be with you. You are everything to me.” 

Lena nods against Kara’s chest, too choked up to speak, and she’s so quiet and still as she sobs that Kara only realizes there are tears because they soak into her shirt. “I forgive you,” she finally whispers. “I forgive you.”

Kara has never been more relieved or happy than she is upon hearing those words. She lets out a sigh of relief so deep that it blows her drying bangs out of her face. She considers staying on the couch like this the whole night, listening to Lena’s heartbeat and smelling her delicate perfume. 

Lena’s pulse eventually slows as she drifts off to sleep, comfortably entwined in Kara.

If not for a quiet knock at the door, Kara might have even fallen asleep next to Lena.

As it is, Kara feels drowsy as she wanders to get it — drowsy enough that she’s totally forgotten about the plans she’s made with Nia. 

Nia smiles as she steps inside the apartment. She glances towards Lena on the couch, and then back at Kara. 

“Did you make up?” Nia asks in an enthusiastic whisper. “Please tell me that’s why she’s here.”

Kara gives a weak shrug and glances fleetingly at Lena. “I think so.” Her eyebrows slant downward and she frowns. “We talked, but somehow I still don’t feel completely better. At least this time, I said exactly what was on my mind.” 

Nia seems disappointed by that news and uncertain about how to console Kara. She stares at Lena for a long while and the way her lips move in a dream. 

“It looks like she’s having a nightmare,” Nia frowns. “Did you ask her about participating in dream exploration?”

“To be honest, I forgot to mention it,” Kara sighs. “I don’t think she would be receptive to the idea, anyway—"

Even so, Kara could kick herself for forgetting to ask. 

There’s a lot Kara hasn’t discussed with Lena, like the article she’s supposed to write — or how Alex managed to persuade Lena to come here, after all — and what all of this means for them. 

Nia’s guidance might have helped with all of their problems. 

“Well, as a rule, I try not to tamper with any of my friends’ dreams, except with their explicit permission,” Nia says with a hint of a smile. “But I can still help you tonight. Just some general advice before we begin: don’t become fixated on whatever happens in the dream. What you’re feeling is more important than anything you might see or experience.”

“I’m a little nervous, to be honest,” Kara confesses, glancing towards Lena and watching her for a moment. “My feelings have kinda been all over the place lately.”

She’s distracted by Lena’s loose dark hair, and the way she’s sleeping with an arm tucked under a couch cushion.

Kara thinks she will never fall asleep with Lena in her apartment.

“Do you have a blanket or a sleeping bag?” Nia asks quietly. “If we do this right here, I’ll keep an eye on Lena, in case she tosses and turns.”

“Yeah, I can grab my sleeping bag,” Kara says, hurrying off to get it from the closet. 

Arranging the sleeping bag on the floor, Kara plops down on it cross-legged and gives Nia an expectant look.

She has some knowledge of Dreamer’s abilities, but what they do is different than what she expects. Nia takes a seat in an armchair, where she slips into a meditative trance.

Kara stretches out on top of her sleeping bag. It doesn’t take a long time to fall asleep. 

Just as she finds a comfortable spot, her eyes shut and the ceiling lifts away. 

Kara is flying in her dream, so far up above the clouds that every distant star is visible to the naked eye. 

Up and up she goes, farther than ever before, until she’s no longer near enough to the earth to make out the details of the city. 

When she lands somewhere, her feet hit a dark surface she can’t see—a platform that feels like crushed glass underneath her feet. She’s mesmerized by all of the sights around her, not focused on her emotions — but then Kara turns around. 

Lena is dozing in a bed not far away, her robe open over a night gown that looks like liquid steel. Her chest heaves in her sleep, her hair down and crinkled around her. 

With every step Kara takes to get closer, Lena moves a bit more frantically, thrashing beneath the sheets.

“Kara?” Lena suddenly cries. “Kara, I need you.” 

Kara realizes that she’s with Lena in a dream, because she can feel a connection so strong it almost knocks her down — it’s such a powerful and overwhelming experience. It hits her like a gust of wind when she’s soaring through a thunderstorm. 

“Lena, I’m here!” Kara shouts, still approaching the bed — but her exhilaration shifts to fear when she notices there’s another presence hovering in the darkness. 

From within the shadows, it makes a quiet clicking noise.

“Who are you?” Kara blurts, perplexed when she sees the face of the person. 

It shifts, becomes every person she knows until finally it settles on Kara. 

It looks just like Kara as it sits down beside Lena and touches her face — turning her chin so that Lena is forced to gaze up at it. 

Lena jerks in response, her whole body writhing from the contact.

“Get away from her!” Kara demands, lurching forward to drag the beast off. “Leave her alone!”

The beast’s face changes again, takes on the appearance of so many enemies — aliens and people that Kara has resented or outright hated, until it at last becomes Lena.

Kara instantly drops it, and it sneers back at her. 

“Kara, please. Help me,” comes a soft whimper from the bed, from Lena. “Don’t go — don’t leave me here all alone.”

Lena’s eyes are still shut, but she’s reaching out for Kara with a straining arm, stretching as far as she can with her fingertips. 

“Fighting me means fighting her,” hisses Lena’s voice, this time from the beast in the darkness. 

“I’m not here to fight you or anyone! All I want is Lena.” Kara asserts, and the beast mysteriously stands down. 

Its appearance has changed, and it looks like a man, stepping out of her path and allowing Kara to rush to Lena’s side. 

Kara takes Lena’s hand and lovingly holds it. 

It’s all _too easy,_ rescuing Lena and lifting her up, flying her off through the night sky. 

The flight takes them through the universe, colors blending around them in midnight and twilight shades — all pale and fiery until they enter their own atmosphere.

They drift through a sunset in another part of the world and Kara sets down on a mountainside. She finds a spot to rest with Lena bundled in her lap.

Just as soon as Lena glances up Kara, she begins to crumble — her red lips, intense stare and high cheekbones all begin to drop away. 

Amid a loud roar in her ears, Kara hears someone speaking. 

_“Try to focus. None of what you are experiencing is real, Kara. But it is becoming real.” It’s Brainy’s very clear voice, from somewhere far away. “I sent Nia to you so I could get this message through. You are in a virtual world, and it’s not just Lena’s tech that is causing this. Leviathan is behind it, using the tech as a way to ease us into a new reality. Everyone who owns a pair of the Obsidian Tech lenses is already immersed, but the tech contains another feature that syncs it with other technology. Leviathan has begun to use that feature so that all users of screened devices will experience altered perception. Soon Lena’s reality will be our reality. We are almost fully integrated—“_

Kara bolts upright in her sleeping bag, crazed as she flings herself towards the couch.

Nia is asleep in the chair not far off, and she’s awakened to the sound of Kara pouncing on Lena, shaking her back to consciousness. 

“Lena!” Kara yells, hands gripping at Lena’s tank top as she rattles her a little too forcefully. “Lena, wake up, _please,_ Lena – wake up!” 

“Kara, get off!” Lena shouts, prying her top free. She partially angles herself towards the other side of the couch as she glares reproachfully at Kara. “Stop it! What has gotten into you?”

Kara can _remember_ — not just Brainy’s warning, but exactly what she’s been trying to do since she immersed herself with Lena in a world that feels entirely _too real_ to her. 

She’s been trying to get Lena’s attention and lead her back to the _actual_ world. 

Except now, there’s a risk that they won’t be able to go back — that what is _real_ will take on a totally new meaning. 

It’s scary to Kara because what she witnessed in the dream also felt real. 

Kara can’t make sense of it all. 

All she knows is that she wants to hug Lena — to talk and to make their relationship right again. She wants to protect Lena and fly her off into a sunset where she is whole, and happy, and safe. 

Her hands are back on Lena before she can think it through, and Kara is embracing her while Lena moodily tolerates it. 

“I just — I feel _so_ connected to you right now,” Kara stupidly blurts, then blushes because that kind of cliché nonsense gets the exact response from Lena that she would expect. 

Lena moves her face as far away as possible, as if she would like to extract herself from this overly touchy-feely situation. 

“Connected. _Right._ Maybe it’s because you’re holding me so tightly that I can’t breathe?” Lena remarks. 

Kara pulls back reluctantly and stands up, eyeing the time on the clock and Nia, who is observing quietly like she’s holding back a laugh. 

“Nia?” Lena frowns, raking her fingers through her tousled hair. “What are you doing here?”

“Dream exploration,” Nia dutifully reports. “It’s a little different than what I standardly do—“

“Does it require interrupting someone’s sleep at 3 o’clock in the morning?” Lena asks, still peeved and now shivering enough to drag a blanket up to her chin. 

“No,” Nia chuckles, glancing at Kara, as if she’s unsure of how much she should say about it. “Kara wanted my help to explore her deeper feelings about an issue that’s been bothering her.” 

Kara finally sobers up from the dopey and borderline weepy state she’s in. It’s pretty obvious _why_ she’s interested in dream exploration. 

Lena is too smart to accept Nia’s vague description, even if she doesn’t seem to remember what Kara does about their co-dreaming experience.

“Let me guess: _I’m_ the issue,” Lena quietly says, with a little smirk that is more miffed than amused. “So is that why you were standing over me while I was sleeping in my dream?” she asks Kara.

Okay, so maybe Lena _does_ remember parts of it. 

“I wasn’t standing over you. That makes it sound creepy,” Kara accuses, giving a tug on her blonde ponytail she had forgotten to take out. “I was just checking on you. Who even dreams about sleeping, anyway?”

“People who overwork themselves, mostly,” Nia chimes in, folding her legs up in the big armchair to get more comfortable. “I’ve experienced that before. And I’m basically the superhero of sleep. It happens.”

Lena gestures at Nia, pointing her finger and scrunching her nose. “See.” 

Kara rolls her eyes, but she appreciates the banter more than she can show. It’s helping her to deal with the pressing anxiety of what she _knows,_ and the fact that she has no idea how to save Lena now. 

Kara worries that her next move could be her _last_ opportunity to bring about change, and that her awareness might fade away if she messes it up. 

With a lot of fears colliding in her mind, and worst case scenarios, Kara settles for temporary non-action.

Sitting beside Lena, Kara gets a whiff of her perfume again and a weird idea suddenly pops into her brain: getting a room at the Baldwin, finding Lena in the bar late one evening, taking her back to said room.

It’s an incomplete little fantasy, and Kara can’t determine if it even is a fantasy. She’s too busy imagining the curve of Lena’s neck when she’s in the throes of an orgasm, the same perfume drifting up from the spot right above Lena’s beauty mark. 

It didn’t happen. _There’s no way._

“What’s on your mind?” Lena nudges Kara, almost knocking the wind out of her with the soft touch. 

_Sex._

Kara’s mouth moves but no sound comes out, and she turns a shade of red. “I’m just— _uh_ —thinking. Thinking of a dream I had a while ago,” she stutters. “A wild, bizarre dream, that would _never_ happen in reality. Did I say never? I mean, it hasn’t happened _yet,_ but it could happen—“

Lena scrutinizes her, in slightly better spirits as her lips tick up in a genuine smirk. “Uh huh,” she softly challenges. “Well then, tell us all about the dream, Kara. What was so bizarre about it?”

Nia quietly snorts laughter, as if she can somehow read through Kara’s awkwardness and knows exactly what this other ‘dream’ involves.

Kara wets her lips nervously, because she is determined not to lie to Lena ever again, even about something as trivial and ass-saving as this. 

“I don’t fully remember,” Kara weakly tries. 

Technically that’s _not_ a lie. Can she get by on technicalities? 

“The blush of shame on your face says otherwise,” Lena notes perceptively. “But if you don’t want to tell us, we could all have a glass of wine instead.”

“Wine, right,” Kara agrees, scooting away before more is asked of her. “I’ll get it.”

Lena seems to be trying hard to force their friendly dynamic back into functioning order. 

It’s like fixing something with tape, with the knowledge it could eventually pop apart again. But Kara is grateful for now because she can use it - because she can work with it. 

She dashes to get the wine for Lena and Nia, and when she returns, they talk about trivial subjects, rather than the one very important subject Kara wants to discuss with Nia — the dream. 

“This almost feels like a sleepover,” Nia considers, taking her shoes off and filling the other empty spot next to Lena. As she drinks her wine, her smile slips. “I’ve never been to a real sleepover before.”

“I don’t suppose I have, either,” Lena admits, more at ease in Nia’s presence, although still mostly closed off. “Of course I _went_ to several, but all of the other girls were mean to me. I remember this one time in the eighth grade - my ‘friend’ spread peanut butter all over my blanket. I slept right on top of it. It even ended up in my hair.” 

“It doesn’t sound like that girl was your friend,” Nia frowns, patting Lena’s arm in commiseration. 

“No, she turned out not to be,” Lena agreed, stealing a glance at Kara that is both sad and solemn. “She even dared another girl to punch me on the first day of school. I found out about that later.”

Kara’s not focused on the discussion, because she’s still fixated on Brainy’s message and the dream. She tries not to freak out— to drink her own wine and avoid getting emotional. Her head only snaps back up when she completely registers what Lena has said. 

“Someone punched you?” Kara asks, outraged. 

“We were thirteen, Kara. It’s in the past,” Lena insists, although the way she speaks leads Kara to believe there are some comparisons to be made between that past situation and the current one. 

Lena curls up on the couch, head lolling onto a pillow in such a pretty and distracting way that she gets all of Kara’s attention. 

They talk for a little while longer and Nia tells them more about her friends from her hometown.

Soon Lena puts down her wine glass and begins drifting off to sleep again, and Nia and Kara both say very little in the hopes of encouraging it. As soon as Lena’s eyelids shut, they both move.

They sneak off to the kitchenette, Kara urgently whispering out, “Did you see what happened in my dream?”

Nia shakes her head and peers back towards the couch and Lena. “I didn’t even purposefully connect the two of you,” she says. “I just gave you control and you took off to Lena. I couldn’t even guide you.” 

Kara raises one shoulder in an apologetic shrug and mutters a quiet “sorry.” 

Shuffling into the kitchen, Kara moves around aimlessly, unable to stand still while she’s working through her thoughts. “At least I learned a lot,” she considers. “Brainy used the dream as a way to communicate with me.”

She gives a short explanation Lena’s tech and the problem of the merging realities. 

It’s enough to jolt Nia out of her oblivious state, to restore her awareness and make her panic. She inhales sharply and shakes out her hands, gasping, “Why is all of this happening? What’s causing it?” 

“Brainy mentioned Leviathan. The only Leviathan I know is a terrorist organization, which has caused a lot of havoc in the past, mostly in other cities,” Kara gently confides. “They dabble a lot in mind control. He said that Leviathan is using Lena’s tech for their own ends, to create this new reality, but Brainy didn't say what their other goals might be. A _leviathan_ is also a type of monster. When I was dreaming, I saw Lena with an _actual_ monster. It was hurting her and she couldn’t get away from it. It could take on anyone’s appearance. It looked like me.” 

There's a thought in the back of Kara's mind, another piece of dormant knowledge about their enemies which she just can't reach.

Nia shares a worried look with her. “You remember how I said don’t focus on the events in your dream? I take it back,” she asserts. “We shouldn’t discount the importance of anything that happened.”

There’s a quiet tapping on the door, and Nia and Kara both look towards it, then glance at each other before they hurry off to see who is visiting in the middle of the night. 

Brainy is on the other side of the door, wearing one of the strangest outfits Kara’s ever seen. It looks like golden bubble wrap with tiny machine components underneath, complete with a helmet made from larger bubbles. 

“This is my immunity suit,” Brainy softly announces. “I needed some way to ensure I wouldn’t totally get sucked into the virtual reality like all of you. Also, I may have wanted an excuse to wear bubble wrap, though I guess I am not _technically_ wearing it. I suppose it's more like a suit of armor on an avatar at the moment, but I did construct it in our reality. And I can feel it and interact with it now, with all five of my senses—” 

Nia throws her arms around Brainy’s shoulders and laughs, and Kara does the same because she’s grateful to see him. 

“Wait, if you’re in here, who else is still out there?” Kara asks, quickly realizing the downfalls of having Brainy with them in the virtual reality. 

“My sister,” Brainy explains, stepping into Kara’s apartment and gazing over at Lena, still asleep on the couch. “Nearly everyone else is inside. We started with you, Kara. There were times when you seemed to be totally absorbed in this reality, and other times when you were very much aware, but there wasn’t enough consistency to make progress. Lillian Luthor came in very soon after you did. We brought her on as a consultant because we thought having any Luthor on our team would be beneficial. Unfortunately, the virtual reality almost immediately integrated her. That doesn’t mean Lillian is lost forever, but just that her goals and desires instantly aligned with Lena’s. I think Lillian wants to make amends for what she’s done in the past. Lena’s damaged psyche is in part shaping the algorithm in the tech while it is simultaneously influencing her. I don’t know if the presence of her mother helped, or if it was counterproductive to our goals—”

Brainy flexes his wrists and arms awkwardly, finding it hard to maneuver in his strange suit. 

Kara is struggling to keep up with all of Brainy’s explanations and she’s grateful he has to pause to fix his bulky pants. 

She’s on information overload, but Kara can form a basic picture of what’s going on: all of the people she cares about must be lying in beds at the DEO, their brains forming a network that connects to Lena’s brain and therefore to the tech. 

Beyond that, the signal from Lena’s tech must be the driving force behind what is happening in the city at large. Everyone is tapped into Lena’s reality through their personal devices. 

“Kelly volunteered to come in next,” Brainy continues. “She thought she could counsel you and Lena, but that didn’t work. You were both too guarded. Alex and Nia were supposed to be the last of our group to enter, but the hold of the virtual reality seems to be growing stronger. I created several of my own devices to help counter the effects of Lena’s tech — at least on all of us. But her algorithm must be learning from how we interact with her. I believe it is doing something to stop our interference. I sent J’onn in yesterday, but haven’t been able to make contact with him.”

Kara’s jittery as she moves back and forth in her small kitchen. “So, what happens now? What happens if this becomes our reality? _Will we all die?”_

“No,” Brainy asserts, as firmly as if he’s run several tests on this unlikely scenario before. “I considered that initially, but I’ve since developed a new theory: we will experience a singularity. I use that term not to describe what will happen when our realities join and become one _single_ reality, but rather to describe what will happen to our sense of Being more generally. We will awaken. We’ll open our eyes, but with altered perceptions. With the firm hold of Lena’s technology and the influence of Leviathan, we may experience changes so drastic they will affect the total structure of our world. The laws of our physics could appear to shift. Our experience of time could run non-linearly. Our minds could process more than a limited number of dimensions!” 

Kara isn’t sure she understands all of the implications.

“To make it easier for you to comprehend — it will be like living in a movie,” Brainy helpfully adds. “Anything and everything will be possible, within reason, because the tech is advanced enough to solve problems that our human minds can't.” 

“That’s really scary but also amazing,” Nia breathes, as if she’s just a tad curious to see what the singularity would actually be like.

“It could be fascinating,” Brainy concedes, with a tilt of his head that means he has thought about it at some length. “Lena has a brilliant mind, so I have no doubt that her tech would produce many wonders. However, it is more likely that we will all _die_ as the result of such a radical and sudden change—” 

“Hold on, I thought you just said we wouldn’t die!” Kara bursts out, waving her hands in protest. 

“We wouldn’t die immediately, but because Leviathan is exploiting Lena’s talents for their own gains, I would assume warfare and enslavement would be a part of their future world,” Brainy remarks, eyebrows deeply furrowed as he adjusts the bubble wrap under his chin. "Leviathan, the terrorist organization, has their signature all over Lena's tech. It's in the code. I haven't been able to figure out the names of everyone behind it, but employees of Obsidian North and Obsidian Tech would be prime suspects. " 

“So how do we stop them?” Kara demands, wanting answers and wanting them _now,_ impatient enough that she steps towards Lena with the plan to jostle her awake.

“Hold on there, chief,” Brainy says, restraining Kara with a hand on her shoulder. “I have extensively studied your patterns of behavior ever since you’ve been in here. Every time you managed to check in with us, it was very clear that you took a brash approach to helping Lena.”

This is something Kara has already considered — that bluntly addressing the issue with Lena won’t work, and that temporary non-action would be better. But being called out on her impulsiveness only makes her fidget in place. She _still_ wants to act but ultimately holds herself back. 

“For now, we need to treat this as if it is our actual reality,” Brainy insists, grabbing an apple from the basket on Kara’s counter. “It might as well be, given it is the reality you have all lived in recently. The first step we have to take is identifying every member of Leviathan. There must be a leader. Finding out who that is should be a top priority. We should get everyone together. We’ll need our complete team for such a monumental task.” 

Kara stares at Lena and all of her beautiful dark features, the long eyelashes and thick brows, the wild curls of her hair. 

“What do we do for Lena?” Kara asks quietly, afraid that Brainy won’t have an answer. Her voice cracks and her eyes dampen, welling up with tears. “How — how do I protect her in the meantime?”

Brainy falls quiet, his troubled eyes darting towards Nia first and then back to Kara. “How have you always protected her?” he asks. 

It turns out that Kara is the one without an answer. She ventures closer to Lena, realizing how much she’s failed her. 

Lena may _never_ be the same again and Kara is to blame for that. 

“I haven’t,” Kara whispers with a devastated tremor in her vocal chords. “I let this happen to her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated and I reply to every one. Thank you for reading. xx


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey Lena, did you sleep okay?” Kara asks, noticing that Lena has just shifted upright on the couch.

It’s the next morning and Brainy and Nia have left to begin working on their plan.

For the last two hours, Kara has watched Lena sleep, unable to so much as shut her own eyes for five seconds. 

Fear and grief twist in her stomach, along with the three cups of coffee she drank and the two French toast bagels she ate while waiting on Lena to wake up. 

Lena ruffles her own hair, then reaches above her head to stretch as a small dimpled smile appears on her face. “I actually had a great sleep, even if you did wake me up in the middle of the night,” she replies. 

“Well, I bought bagels to make up for it,” Kara points out, lifting a wrapped bagel and a paper cup with Lena’s favorite blend of coffee from the table beside her. She eagerly holds both out to Lena, who accepts them with a tiny glimmer of appreciation in her eyes. 

“You know I’m a sucker for you bringing me my faves,” Lena admits in a raspy and delighted tone. But then she gives a downcast glance at the bagel, which is made just as she likes it - sesame, lightly toasted with whipped cream cheese. She pulls apart the halves and holds one out to Kara.

“Oh, no, I already ate mine. That’s for you,” Kara insists and shifts over to sit beside Lena on the couch. “What time are you going to L-Corp?”

Lena winces a little and rips her bagel into small chunks that don’t quite make it to her mouth. “Never would be too soon,” she softly rumbles. “I dread going to work lately.” 

“Tell me about it. That’s how I feel about CatCo right now,” Kara commiserates. She should confide in Lena about the article she’s being forced to write, but it’s harder now that she knows what she knows. It would be foolish to put any strain on their already struggling friendship. There has to be some way to handle the problem on her own so that Lena never has to find out that her new partners aren’t fully in her corner. 

“Why don’t we stay here all day and just eat bagels?” Lena suggests, tugging the blanket up over her shoulders and sitting with her back to Kara so she can lean in while she picks at her food. 

“It might take you all day to eat that with the way you’re doing it,” Kara teases. 

Looping an arm casually over Lena, Kara falls into old habits. She feels herself becoming more soft and gooey than a marshmallow held over a hot campfire.

Lena is so warm from sleeping and her early morning hair rivals her evening hair. 

“Whatever is happening at work, don’t let it get to you,” Kara mutters gently, and her lips find the top of Lena’s head, where she presses a tiny affectionate kiss. 

Lena turns her neck to glance back at Kara, with heat in her face and smoldering desire in her eyes. There’s no mistaking it, even if it fades away quickly. 

“It’s — a special project — at work,” Lena chokes out, suddenly upset and paling. “It’s meant to protect you and everyone from Lex. That’s my only focus right now. Speaking of which, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

The way Lena lifts her bag, Kara doesn’t know what to expect. 

Lena hands over a small device, which is slightly curved but almost bullet-shaped. It vibrates against her palm. Kara needs an explanation of what it does, because her first guess _isn’t_ fighting evil. 

“ _Uh_ —Lena?” Kara prompts quietly.

“You need to use it against Lex,” Lena emphasizes, not even noticing Kara’s blush. “When it’s time, it will activate all on its own. It’s very important that you always have it with you, Kara.”

Kara holds the device and tries not to look visibly confused. “Thank you,” she says, wondering if she should mention anything about Lena’s interesting design choices. Instead she tucks the device into a safe pocket and makes a mental note to always have it on her. 

Lena chooses that moment to slide away from her. “Do you mind if I shower?”

“Oh—no, not at all,” Kara stutters, getting to her feet to show Lena the way. She even opens the door to the bathroom. “Let me give you the tour.” 

“Kara, I’ve been to your apartment plenty of times. I was in this bathroom just last night. I know where the shower is,“ Lena gently points out.

Kara is still standing there, one hand on the door and the other broadly gesturing. “Yeah,” she laughs. “Right, of course. I’ll just grab you a few towels.” She forcefully yanks open the door to her linen closet and piles three towels into Lena’s arms. “Well, I’ll just leave you to it.”

“Wait,” Lena demands, putting out a hand to grab Kara, and for a delirious second Kara imagines she’s going to be pulled in close for a kiss. 

“Can I borrow your shampoo?” Lena asks. 

All she wants is shampoo? 

Kara is already mentally living out a whole fantasy that involves Lena taking off her clothes and stepping backwards to the shower, all while dragging Kara along with her.

“Ah—uhm—shampoo,” Kara repeats, sounding dumber than ever, and nodding along as if Lena’s asked her to give her opinions on something like deforestation or politics, and not made a simple request. 

“There are three different bottles in there and you’re welcome to use whichever one you like,” Kara reports, to which Lena smiles and mercifully steps back, giving her the chance to calm down.

Kara wanders away from the bathroom and along the hall to her bedroom, where she face plants against her pillow. 

It’s absolutely the worst that she feels aroused right now, at a time when Lena is in serious danger, and Kara’s one job is to work on building back the trust she destroyed. 

She gets up, double checks her appearance in the mirror and then walks down the hall. 

Earlier she had taken a shower and gotten ready for work, though she’s going to skip out on it today and go to the DEO instead. 

She’s planning to make herself some more coffee so she’s not distracted by the idea of Lena in the shower, but her super hearing suddenly hones in on deep, anguished sobs from within the bathroom. 

Kara halts, listening to every pained noise, and her heart breaks a thousand times before it’s over. 

She wishes she knew what exactly brought it on, but when Lena re-emerges from the bathroom a while later, she’s fresh-faced and calm. There’s no way of discussing it—not without making it clear that Kara has eavesdropped. 

“I need to get to work now,” Lena states, although she’s done nothing with her damp hair and she hasn’t even eaten most of her bagel. 

“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you tonight?” Kara asks with a hopeful smile and small nibble at her bottom lip. 

“Unless I get stuck at work,” Lena easily replies, gathering up her bag and readying herself to go. “I’ll try to come back.” 

It’s Lena who initiates a hug, who opens her arms expectantly, and Kara presses herself into the embrace greedily, making it last for as long as she can before Lena steps back.

“Thanks for staying last night, Lena. It was nice having you here,” Kara says, and Lena nods in agreement as she moves towards the door.

“It’s nice knowing I still have a place to go when everything feels like it’s falling apart,” Lena admits. 

It’s a vulnerable statement, even if Lena is stoic and tough. 

Kara stands in the doorway long after Lena leaves, head resting against the frame, and then she rushes into her suit, more determined than ever to be Lena’s hero.

A small congregation of Kara’s friends are standing around in one of the labs when she enters the DEO. The tension in the air is so thick that Kara’s face falls as soon as she joins them, and her attention settles on J’onn, who seems to be the most riled of the bunch. 

J’onn‘s arms are crossed in front of his broad chest and his frustration appears to be with Brainy. “I told you to give me time,” he rumbles. “Not to come in right at the back of me, before I had even gotten the opportunity to check on everyone.”

“Does it matter that I’m here if our goal is to extract everyone?” Brainy asks. “Or are we just discussing this in a hypothetical way?”

“Hypothetically,” J’onn asserts. “Can we hypothetically get our team out?”

“Not yet,” Brainy sighs.

Kelly is sitting in a chair with her hands in her lap. Her focus drifts between Brainy, J’onn and Nia. 

Alex is conspicuously absent from the meeting. 

“Even if we can figure out how to do it, I’m not going to pull out of this virtual world unless we’re all here and leaving together,” Kelly argues. “For days I’ve felt like there’s been something wrong with Alex. When J’onn and I tried to tell her what was going on over breakfast this morning, she couldn’t even respond. It was like interacting with a robot. She listened to what we had to say and then carried right on as if nothing happened—as if we hadn’t just told her to question her entire existence.”

Kara’s limbs feel loose and heavy at the mention of her sister and she temporarily stops breathing. “What’s wrong with her?” she croaks, not even managing to get out a greeting as she steps further into the lab. “What’s wrong with Alex?”

“We assume that, just like Lillian Luthor, Alex has accepted this new reality,” J’onn explains. His concern for Alex is etched as a deep wrinkle in the center of his forehead. “Let me go over everything we know.”

Nia decides to take a seat next to Kelly, who throws her a comforting glance and reaches out to squeeze her hand. 

J’onn stands by the front of the room, arms behind his back as he briefly goes over events. “On Sunday October 6, Lena Luthor collapsed in her office at L-Corp. It wasn’t until the following morning that her cleaning staff found her and reported the incident to the authorities. She was brought to the local hospital, where she was assessed, until Alex arranged for her to be brought to the DEO.” 

Kara cants her head to the side and her mouth drops open. “Wait, I’m really confused,” she admits. “That’s not how I remember it. I brought Lena into the DEO. I was with her right before she collapsed.” 

J’onn glances her away, considers her for a moment in silence and then eyes everyone else. “Can anyone please confirm my version of events?”

“That’s what happened,” Nia nods, visibly worried as her head swivels towards Kara and then back to J’onn. “Kara, we were all busy helping out with displaced and traumatized aliens at the time. Alex was so understaffed at the DEO—”

Kara takes a deep breath, stretches her neck out, and tries to accept that a few of her memories might not be totally trustworthy. 

J’onn glances towards Kara as if looking for permission to go on, and she nods to him, although she’s feeling disturbed. 

“We all did everything we could to help Lena,” J’onn sighs, noticing Kara’s distress and silently consoling her with the warmth in his eyes. “Alex tried increasing Lena’s cortisol levels and altering her brain chemistry in the hopes of bringing her back to us. She experimented with many different medical interventions. Then the DEO brought Lillian Luthor on as a consultant and tried to create a device to reverse the effects of Lena’s tech. We attempted to get in touch with the original creators of the Obsidian Tech lenses, only to find out that the majority of the enhancements had been made by Lena herself.” 

None of this quite matches up with what Kara remembers happening at the DEO immediately following Lena’s collapse, but it seems logical enough. 

“Thankfully Brainy developed a device that would allow someone to share Lena’s experience in the virtual reality without becoming too caught up in it,” J’onn huffs out and grabs for a small cord attached to a tiny piece of tech. “We have them here. Same device. Clearly some things aren’t that different.” He raises an eyebrow at Kara and points out two other devices that Brainy has engineered to prevent them from becoming mixed up in the virtual world.

Kara doesn’t even want to guess what might happen if anyone used one of those devices while _already_ immersed in the virtual world. What would they experience? 

She tries not to fixate on it for too long, because Brainy is speaking again. 

“My tech failed,” Brainy interjects, disappointed in himself for not being able to solve all of their problems where technology is concerned. 

“It might have worked out better if we had waited until you ran further tests on your devices before putting them to use,” J’onn frowns, not outright blaming Kara, but based on the way his gaze flits over to her, she can tell this comment is directed at her.

“It was me — I went in against everyone’s advice,” Kara breathes out, and even though she can’t entirely trust what she remembers, she can imagine events unfolding that way. When faced with the choice, she can see herself following her heart and taking the risk to save Lena. 

“Yes,” J’onn acknowledges and claps a hand gently over Kara’s shoulder. “It was an impulsive decision, but one that any of us would make to save a very close friend.” 

If Kara is completely honest with herself, her choice wasn’t just about rescuing Lena. It couldn’t have been. She must have acted from a place of selfishness and put her own desire to have Lena in her life above everyone else in National City. 

This isn’t a proud realization for Kara and she swallows hard against a lump in her throat. 

“The first thing I remember is giving my Pulitzer acceptance speech,” Kara finally chokes out. “Nearly everything that came after that felt real to me, except for a few _strange_ events—“

“The strange events might not be so strange after all. We have determined that Leviathan has altered Lena’s algorithm in certain places,” Brainy hastens to explain, drawing up a chair in front of a computer terminal to show a few lines of example code. He points to broken lines, a few notes that include Leviathan’s signature, and commands that will override the normal operation of Lena’s algorithm. 

“What Lena has produced is not a mere virtual world - but an artificially intelligent system,” J’onn emphasizes, motioning to the raw code that controls how the virtual world works. “Let’s talk about the hardware first. In Lena’s case, there is a device in her brain, although she was also using a more standard pair of the lenses. There might be a way to shut down or control the devices remotely, but we weren’t able to determine how, and there was no safe way to remove the devices without compromising Lena. Leviathan may know how to control the hardware. That is something we need to investigate further.” 

“We know for a fact that Leviathan tampered with Lena’s algorithm. But we don't know if that happened before or after Lena decided to make use of her own tech,” J’onn continues. “The algorithm has many uses, but its primary purpose is to test out situations. It calculates what might happen. Then the algorithm tries out a small selection of those likely scenarios through simulations. It is designed to work with the human brain, to help someone make decisions with the best outcomes. But Leviathan’s alterations to the algorithm work differently: they extract information from Lena’s brain and exploit it. The intent behind this seems to be very disruptive. It is de-stabilizing to the normal functioning of the algorithm, and based on brain scans and EEGs that we performed on Lena, we can say that it affects her brain.”

“My theory is that Leviathan _needs_ Lena. Their code is probably going after Lena’s memories and attacking whatever vulnerabilities it can find,” Kelly reveals, staring up at Kara through her long lashes. “It would explain Lena’s recent panic attacks. Maybe Leviathan is forcing her to relive episodic memories to break Lena down and gain control. Or maybe Leviathan is just distracting Lena so the tech can take over. At the same time, I think Lena’s desires and wishes strongly influence what happens in this reality. I say this based on our therapy session, where I felt occasionally unable to ask Lena certain questions, or address specific issues with her. It’s like we’re all acting within certain constraints—” 

“I think I was experiencing disruptions whenever I tried to apologize to Lena. I might have been involved in some of Lena’s wish fulfilment, too,” Kara admits, so burdened by all of this new information that she sags and leans heavily into the lab table at her back. “So, we have to go after Leviathan. Where do we begin?”

“I’m not sure. Leviathan clearly thinks they have already won,” J’onn sighs, motioning to all of the lines in the algorithm that show the extent of Leviathan’s hold. “They were confident enough to leave their mark on the code. We’ve also had further confirmation of the seriousness of their threat in the real world. The Monitor, the cosmic being who oversees all of the happenings across the multiverse, spoke to me telepathically. He warned me that Lena’s technology could become so advanced that it will figure out how to alter space and time. It is capable of solving advanced problems that a human mind alone cannot tackle. Leviathan may want to use the different applications of the technology in our universe and in other universes.” 

The magnitude of the threat is clear, even if Kara doesn’t fully understand Leviathan’s bigger goals as an organization, or how they want to use Lena and her technology in the end.

If Leviathan can totally control Lena and the tech, there is no telling what else they can do to dominate the minds of everyone in all of the known universes.

“We need to investigate Ryan Gunn and everyone else who is part of his team at Obsidian Tech,” Brainy proposes and clicks on the company profiles of all of the employees he is suggesting they investigate. “Gunn is the one who sought Lena out and asked her to make improvements to their lenses. It’s very likely that some of the staff at Obsidian Tech are members of Leviathan.” 

“There is also Andrea Rojas and William Dey — two former employees of Obsidian North who now run CatCo,” Kara adds— all too happy to add their names to the investigation list, because she clashes with both of her bosses all of the time. “They’re both villains in their day jobs, so why not in their free time?” 

“I could look into those two,” Kelly offers quietly and lets out a soft sigh. “They just became clients of mine. CatCo is right by my new office. I’m _really_ betraying patient confidentiality by sharing this, but they’re seeing me for marriage counseling. They’re on the verge of getting divorced.” 

Kara stomps her foot and gestures at Kelly because she suspected all along that Andrea and William weren’t happily married. “Thank you,” she blurts out, but tries to look a little less validated after that. “Sorry, I just put up with their lousy moods all of the time at work. Anyway, are there any other possible members of Leviathan we should investigate?”

“Dr. Dedalus,” Brainy adds, giving them the basic details of Dedalus’ background and how he designed the earliest prototypes of the VR lenses. “If I come up with any other names, I’ll let everyone know.”

They seem ready to break from their little huddle, but Nia, who has been mostly quiet during their meeting, decides to voice very important questions: “If we do manage to save ourselves and the world, will we all remember what happened here? Will other people besides us remember it? And if something hurts us, or we die, does that mean we die in the actual world?”

J’onn and Brainy freeze, exchanging a glance that says they know the answer to these questions. 

“The employees of L-Corp that Lex Luthor targeted a few days ago are all dead,” J’onn discloses to the group. “The same goes for the men, women and children who lost their lives in the bombing. It’s in both the papers — this one and the one outside, although they each tell different stories of how it happened. Outside, there are also a large number of people who have been admitted to the hospital with mental illness. Some of them are walking around like zombies because of their immersion in the tech, but they are not really mentally ill. It’s just the first stage of the tech truly taking hold. Whatever you do, please be careful, because it can have real consequences.” 

That morning, Lena arrives at L-Corp to find Eve once again eating the office donuts, with chocolate frosting all over her fingers.

“You know, I gave you your entire old salary back, with a ten percent increase,” Lena comments, glancing towards Eve while she hurries to hang her coat and slide in behind her desk. “Why don’t you order a better breakfast than that?”

“I’ve already eaten breakfast,” Eve admits, blushing and setting down the treat, as if Lena’s caught her doing something far more unthinkable than eating donuts — like plotting mass destruction. 

The more she thinks about it, the more Lena realizes there’s been a shift in Eve’s appetite in general, and she regrets mentioning it because her intentions were never to shame her. 

“I know I’ve been eating a lot, but that’s because I’m pregnant,” Eve confesses abruptly. She’s not even being honest about her circumstances because of the device implanted in her brain. 

Eve is choosing to tell Lena this, and not in a moment when that information could be used to garner sympathy. 

“You’re pregnant?” Lena asks, as if she’s unfamiliar with how mammalian reproduction works and needs the definition. “Please don’t tell me that you’re carrying Lex’s spawn.”

“Your niece,” Eve confirms with a little self-deprecating laugh. 

“I would be disgusted by your love life if I wasn’t already disgusted by my own,” Lena blurts, finding it far too easy to fall into old patterns with Eve and talk to her the way she did before.

“You’re still seeing James? Talk about disgusting,” Eve snorts. “You know I might have shot him the back, but he was constantly undermining you at work, making it seem like he was the boss and you were just this pretty little thing he had to humor. He even had the nerve to make you feel terrible for helping him out with the DA, when he never would have gotten out of trouble by himself. Not to mention, he always caused trouble between you and Kara. He has that sleazy nice guy persona. He thinks the world owes him something because he’s a self-professed ‘nice guy’—“

Eve’s rant is shocking and Lena raises her eyebrows as she listens to it. 

“I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about James Olsen,” Lena softly hums, not eager to correct Eve about her love life, but very interested in hearing her thoughts.

“Please, anyone could see that you only dated him because he was the closest thing to Kara you thought you could get,” Eve rushes to get out, unafraid of giving her honest opinion, even now that Lena has control over her.

It’s strange that Eve knows Lena so well, and on some level cares enough to take the risk of giving all of these speeches, even though she’s held a gun to Lena’s head on multiple occasions. It’s an unexpected twist in Lena’s day that she never saw coming. 

“When I almost shot you, it _really_ wasn’t personal, but when I shot James, it might have been a little personal,” Eve continues, surprising Lena even more with her re-telling of what happened.

Lena shuffles a few pieces of paperwork around on her desk, pretending that nothing affects her, even though she’s inwardly reeling from the news that she might someday be an aunt, and that all along, Eve has known how much she loved Kara Danvers.

“So do you plan to keep the baby?” Lena quietly asks, realizing that a responsibility now falls to her if Eve chooses some alternative. 

“I don’t know,” Eve sighs heavily, once again choosing to be honest in unexpected ways. “In spite of how your brother has treated me, I would still go back to him. I think you can understand what that’s like, considering how many times he’s manipulated you. I definitely don’t want an abortion, but I also don’t want to raise this baby, or any baby. I’d prefer giving her up for adoption — maybe even an open adoption, but who do I even know that would want to adopt a _Luthor_? No offense.”

“None taken,” Lena mildly replies, agreeing with Eve entirely on that. “I’ll get you some pre-natal vitamins and we can figure out an adoption plan later on. If necessary, we can always conceal the parentage of the child and find her a wonderful family. Nurture might _finally_ overtake nature, in her case.” 

Eve seems content with that plan because she helps herself to a glazed donut. “By the way, your new secretary Marta tried to speak with me this morning, but I couldn’t respond because of how you programmed this device in my head. I just held up my hand and walked by while pretending to be on official business.”

“Good,” Lena responds, only half interested, at least until she notices that the sensor light that usually notifies everyone that she’s in her lab is on. 

It can’t be activated by Alex or anyone in the medical zones—only in the main lab. 

“Who’s in the lab?” Lena asks. “No one else has my new elevator code.”

She practically jumps up from her desk and dashes over to the elevator, with Eve following just as fast. 

“I didn’t see anyone go down,” Eve reports truthfully, and Lena’s stomach lurches during the descent. She wonders if it could be Kara or anyone from the DEO who has caught on to what she’s done to Alex.

The elevator stops and before the doors even fully open, Lena spots her mother — standing across from Alex, clearly worried and conflicted. 

“Much as I want to let you go, I can’t do it,” Lillian tells Alex. She fails to realize Lena’s presence. 

“My daughter needs me right now. Because of me, and my inability to be the mother she deserved, she’s been alone for most of her life. While I do believe she’s going to come to regret locking you up, I need Lena to know that someone’s on her side,” Lillian softly conveys, still so focused on Alex that it takes Lena stepping forward to be noticed. 

Lena stiffens, coming to an abrupt stop as she registers that Alex and Lillian are now staring at her.

These are the most sincere sentiments that Lillian has ever voluntarily expressed, but Lena can’t take the risk of believing them now. 

She pulls a gun on her mother, who simply puts her hands up in surrender and allows Lena to march her towards a second space like the one Alex resides in, composed of panels that rise from the floor at the click of a button. 

“I’m happy to cooperate with you, Lena,” Lillian softly intones, keeping her face forward and schooling her features into a neutral but shrewd look. “Whatever you need, say the word.”

“Non-interference,” Lena succinctly demands and pushes Lillian into a seated position in a chair, then she exits the space and closes it around her mother. “You’ve spent plenty of time in prison, so you know how this goes.”

Lillian raises an eyebrow and sucks a little breath in through her nostrils. “Well, at least I don’t have to wear one of those awful jumpsuits this time,” she sniffs. “Maybe you’ll be the next Luthor to do that. Why are you doing this, Lena? Is it because your best friend betrayed you, or because I didn’t hug you enough?”

Lena goes from being relatively calm to furious over her mother’s comments. 

As much as her mother has been softer recently, she’s now being hard and cold again, using the same tried-and-true psychological tactics to get Lena to fall in line. 

“I’m doing this because I am trying to stop the monster _you_ created: Lex,” Lena spits, gesturing as if he’s standing right beside her, a phantom that follows her every day of her life. “That son of bitch is planning to kill us all in retaliation for what I did to him! After Lex committed treason, I shot him in the chest, but he clearly survived it. I should have stayed around long enough to double check his pulse, but I left his body where it was and someone must have helped him before he completely bled out—” 

It shouldn’t matter that she’s telling her mother this now, since Lex is alive—but Lillian’s eyes light up with surprise over Lena’s announcement.

“You tried to _kill_ Lex?” Lillian asks, as if she doesn’t believe it—as if she finds Lena incapable of murder. “ _That explains a lot._ As cruel as Lex was to you, Lena, and as many times as he threatened to do the same to you, it’s not in your nature to kill. I’ve spent a few months now thinking about how different you are — how special you’ve always been.” 

Lena scoffs at that, holding back angry tears that brim in her eyes. It’s humiliating that all of this is happening in front of Eve and Alex.

“Hear me out,” Lillian commands, standing up and moving as close as she can, given her restrictions. “I thought I needed to prepare you for the world _I_ lived in—I thought I needed to make you tough, sweetheart. I don’t regret what I did, but I do regret that I never took care of you. That I never just held you when you fell down and scraped a knee, that I forced you into situations that made you cry just because I thought it would be good for you. I take no credit for the strong but _sensitive_ woman you’ve become. I’m just so proud of you. I’m proud that you managed to retain that. That is your gift, Lena. Your compassion. You are everything I could have wished for in a daughter—“

The words buzz around Lena and sting at her skin. Her jaw aches from holding it in such a tight clench, even as she tries to inhale, to prevent herself from having a bad reaction to her mother’s unexpected speech.

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? Were you holding that speech back for when you were on your deathbed?” Lena asks, her voice lacking bite and power. “That might be sooner than you think.”

“Empty threats,” Lillian dismissively sighs, perhaps recognizing that she won’t get anywhere—that her speech has riled her daughter but not enough to impact Lena’s decision-making.

“Not if Lex has his way,” Lena reminds her. She turns around as she activates the controls to deafen both Lillian and Alex from hearing all noise from the lab, except for the alarm systems. 

She also pulls up the blind to prevent them from seeing each other, and as she’s doing it, she catches Alex desperately trying to get her attention. 

Lena isn’t in the mood to speak with her, and proceeds back to the elevator with Eve, who wisely keeps quiet until they’re back in the office.

It’s an unproductive work day after that, with Lena growing increasingly paranoid about keeping Alex a prisoner. She’s troubled over what happened with her mother and heartsick over lying to Kara, much as she is still stewing in anger on all accounts. 

Lena drinks at her desk, finishing off the last of the booze in her decanters. She’s typically careful to ration herself and avoid drunkenness, but there’s also a new bottle of fine scotch whisky and she partakes in that a little more than she should. 

It’s unfortunate that just as Lena is licking the last drop from her lips, Kara walks in with dinner—two giant bags of Chinese take-out.

“I figured we could all have dinner together tonight. I checked in at the DEO and found out you’ve been here all day,” Kara tells Eve, who still looks just like Alex.

Eve smiles back at her in the fond and good natured way Alex might.

“I’ve been busy working with Lena in the lab—and hey, we’re both pretty famished—so you have excellent timing. There better be chow mein in that bag.” Eve says, and she hurries to sit down on the white leather sofa. 

“Of course there is, _duh,_ ” Kara snorts and digs right into the pot stickers as Lena wanders over. “And I bought extra pot stickers, including the vegetable kind you like, Lena.”

Lena sinks into the seat next to Kara, hoping that the device in Eve’s head is feeding her enough information about Alex for this conversation to go smoothly. 

Lena gives Kara a tense smile and reaches for the carton of pot stickers that belong to her. 

“You should give these a try. They’re not as greasy as the pork ones,” Lena insists.

“Greasy-smeasy, these are delicious,” Kara doofily argues and uses chopsticks to shove two of her dumplings into her mouth at once. “So Alex, not to put you on the spot or anything, but I’ve hardly heard from you in the past few days. You didn’t even respond to my texts earlier. Are we good?”

“Yeah, totally,” Eve confirms, softening as she lays an arm on top of Kara’s shoulder. “I just wanted to give you and Lena some space to work through your issues together. It occurred to me that maybe I came on too strong and that I wasn’t very helpful to either of you.”

“Not true. You helped me.” Kara leans in to Eve’s arm and pulls it around her, turning the gentle touch into a hug.

Lena sets down her carton, abandoning her dinner before she even eats a third potsticker. 

“Kara is right,” Lena echoes, affirming the opinion quietly. “You helped us both, Alex. I’m grateful.”

Watching Kara with Eve fills her with unease — a guilt so strong Lena is nauseated from it. 

She places a hand over her lips as bile rises in her throat. The burn of alcohol is worse on the way back up, but Lena manages to suppress the reflex to gag. 

Lena isn’t sure she can do this much longer. 

Lying to Kara’s face is more excruciating than she imagined and made all the worse by Kara’s enthusiasm and gushing happiness. 

Kara throws her arms around both Alex and Lena, trapping them in a three person hug. “I’m so relieved that we’re all together again,” she admits. 

Eve leans in to peck Kara on the cheek, and Lena can almost convince herself that it’s _actually_ Alex doing it. 

Lena draws as much strength from this closeness as possible, tucking her chin against Kara as the weight of her deeds begins to get to her. She tries to stoke her own anger—to remember every single time Kara lied while sitting on this couch. But she’s not finding it easy. 

“By the way, I’m really happy Lena finally took my advice and decided to stay with you,” Eve pipes up, arching an eyebrow suggestively as she glances from Kara to Lena. 

Kara is too busy stuffing a pot sticker into either of her cheeks to notice. “ee ooo,” she agrees. _Me too._ “Oo aah-ppy.” 

_So happy._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some strange mind fuckery things happen in this chapter. . . just in case you get to a part that's disheartening. . .

Awakened at five in the morning to the sound of her ringtone, Kara blindly reaches for the phone and groans. Her eyes are still half shut when she picks up the call, but there’s only one person who could possibly be on the line to ruin the start to her day. 

“Danvers, where is your article?” Dey asks, as rude as ever, and without even the courtesy of saying hello first. “I gave you a deadline and you failed to meet it.”

“Deadline?” Kara grunts. She blearily glances around her bedroom as she gets to her feet. 

“I gave you the deadline when I assigned the article. It was on that fact sheet that Andrea handed you. I also emailed you a reminder last night.” Dey sounds fed up, like he’s been waiting on her article for weeks instead of days. 

“I don’t have it,” Kara replies, rubbing the sleep from her face. “I need an extension. I’m really sorry.”

She’s been distracted by Lena — too distracted to bother checking her emails overnight. 

After hanging out with Alex and Lena for a few hours, she convinced Lena to come back to her apartment. 

Lena had spent the night practically curled up in Kara’s lap, quiet and cozy while they watched documentaries and ate two gallons of ice cream — cookie dough and mint chocolate chip, which they traded between them. _To be fair, Kara had done most of the eating._

It seemed more important than anything else Kara had to do, even if William Dey is now lecturing her for it. 

“Your lack of professionalism is a problem. You are consistently late to work, you talk back, you don’t hand in your assignments, and the way you dress — like a kindergarten teacher who deals with snot-nosed brats for a living, instead of a respectable reporter —“ 

Dey rants on, taking cheap shots at Kara for everything, including some things that are matters of personal preference. “Yet somehow, in spite of your terrible performance, I’ve still done so many favors for you. You owe me.”

“Oh yeah, Dey? What do I owe you?” Kara challenges, finally reaching her limit for what she will put up with from him. 

“How about a drink for starters, and if you’re lucky, I’ll take you back to a hotel afterwards,” Dey arrogantly offers, and she can hear his smug grin, and practically see the gleam of anticipation in his eyes. 

Kara can’t believe his level of misogyny — acting like he hates her and thinks she’s incompetent one minute, only to lay it on heavy with the sexual harassment the next. “Go to hell, Dey,” she spits. 

“I figured you would say that, but I still stayed up all night writing your article,” Dey says with a laugh. “I expect you to thank me, in the very least. The article is already posted online and print copies are about to roll out. There will be news vans all over L-Corp and at that school event you’re supposed to attend. I bet everyone is going to want a quote from you—“

If Kara could fly through the phone and punch him in the throat, she would do it. “You wrote an article and put my name on it?” she shrieks. 

There’s no way he did all of this last night, which means he’s been planning this for days and just lectured her for no reason — not only that, but as they speak, the print copies will be going out to homes, shops and stands all over the city. 

She frantically hangs up the phone and runs into the living room only to find that Lena has left her a note: 

_Needed to stop by L-Corp before going to the school. Meet you there. - Lena._

There’s a tiny heart after Lena has signed her name.

Kara shakes all over as she repeatedly phones Lena. She suits up and launches herself through the window, speeding across town to do damage control before it’s all too late. 

She listens for Lena’s heartbeat, but there’s a strange cacophony of noise in her ears, and Kara wonders what is causing that interference — if the virtual reality can sense that she’s desperate to find Lena and is deliberately denying her. 

Lena isn’t at L-Corp, or any of her usual breakfast and coffee spots, and Kara spends two hours in flight. 

She’s almost late for the school event, and when she touches down outside of the school, she can see buses dropping kids off, along with a few news vans parked in a nearby lot, and thankfully—Lena—standing alone in a blue blazer by one of the empty yellow school buses. 

Kara has to tell her about the article, but also about what is going on in this virtual world. She _needs_ to get Lena out of here before they are torn apart by circumstances she can’t control.

“Lena!” Kara shouts and rushes over, still in her superhero suit. Her lips are already forming an apology, an “I’m so sorry” that lacks enough air behind it to fully be heard.

“ _Kara_?” Lena coldly asks, as if she doesn’t recognize a friend in her. She must have already seen the article.

Kara doesn’t have the chance to explain.

Lena raises a fist and punches Kara square between the eyes. 

She feels Lena’s knuckles smashing the bridge of her nose, hard enough to leave her black and blue, if not broken.

Kara _should_ be invulnerable to a hit like this, and it’s the fact that she’s not that makes her vision swim more than the punch itself. 

Suddenly it’s _not_ Lena standing across from her — it’s some kid, a freckle-faced redhead who laughs at her pain. “That’s what you get, Luthor,” the girl laughs. “You think you’re so smart, and that your family is so rich, and you’re so pretty. We’ll see how pretty you are now with a broken face.” 

Kara is confused about how this is happening — but when she swings to see her reflection in the closest car window, she looks exactly how she imagines a pre-teen Lena would look: petite, with a backpack that holds too many books for her small frame to carry, and a familiar pale face that is currently bleeding.

She’s living in one of Lena’s memories and handles the situation by punching back — slamming her fist into the other girl’s face so hard that she falls down. 

It would be the smart thing to drop her backpack now and run, but when Kara takes off around the bus, it’s with the weight of ten textbooks on her back because she _needs_ these books more than air itself. _Lena really was a nerd._

Kara has never been bothered by heavy lifting, so hauling this around is a new experience for her. She doesn’t go very far before a teacher stops her.

The teacher grabs her by the top handle on the backpack, and Kara finally drops it, swinging around to see that Alex is now standing where the teacher had once stood.

Kara looks like herself again, and she no sooner places her hands on the front of her suit to double check, than she notices the menacing glimmer in Alex’s eyes. 

“Alex?” Kara asks, and she has to duck, because her sister swipes at her, then knocks her back against the school bus with a hit to the chest.

Kara can’t breathe for a second — the blow has affected her that much, but then she leaps onto the concrete walk and aims a high kick at Alex. 

_There’s no way this is her sister._ This is a full-blown attack from Lena’s virtual world, a total shift in her perception and a taste of what her day-to-day might be like if she doesn’t save Lena. It’s completely unpredictable and chaotic, and Kara feels more than ever that she has to get through to Lena.

Alex circles methodically around her and then they are back to fighting again. 

Kara drops low and rises up with power as she spin-kicks Alex in the legs — but Alex knows how to recover her balance from it and pushes her into the busy street. 

Their fight takes them further away from the school and towards the three lane highway out front.

With traffic all around them, cars that are still moving along at the top of the speed limit, Alex’s attacks force Kara to the center lane. 

Every time Alex lands a punch, Kara can feel it — and if there is anyone with a combat skill more advanced than her own, it’s Alex. 

This is both a physical and psychological attack. 

“Alex, please!” Kara calls out, beginning to panic that this isn’t just some delusion that the virtual world is using against her. 

This might be the real Alex in a similar state of confusion. Alex might not even be seeing her as Kara right now. What if she looks totally different?

It’s not something Kara gets to think about for long. 

A tractor trailer spins out on the highway behind her, and as it collides into other cars, Kara has just enough time to wrap her arms around Alex and pull her close before they are wedged between hot, searing metal — just enough time to _get away._

Kara hunches over and breathes heavily with her hands on her knees. 

She’s no longer in the center lane of traffic. 

Lena’s gentle hand is on Kara’s back, moving in soothing patterns up and down her spine. 

“You’re okay, Kara,” Lena desperately conveys, wrapping her in a hug as soon as Kara can stand up. “I’ve got you. It’s alright.”

Kara has the sense that she’s just been standing on the sidewalk with Lena this whole time, having a panic attack instead of fighting with Alex. 

She will have to tell everyone back at the DEO what she just experienced, and how her strong desire to get through to Lena resulted in a mental assault. 

For now, Kara just breathes and grabs Lena close.

“Lena,” Kara sniffs, clinging tighter than ever before and refusing to let go this time. “Lena, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news this morning — but a few days ago, Andrea and William asked me to write an article about you. They wanted me to discredit you, to make it seem like you’ve suffered a mental breakdown. I wouldn’t _ever_ write that about you, but William Dey published an article in my name—“

“I know,” Lena confirms with a soft rumble of anger that is not directed at Kara. “I shouldn’t have ever turned CatCo over to Andrea and William. My new assistant phoned me earlier and warned me about the article. I already read it and I recognized immediately that it wasn’t your writing style.”

That is an instant relief to Kara and she’s filled with gratitude for a moment. 

Then Kara remembers that while Lena knows the truth about the article, everyone else will read it and still think the worst of Lena. 

“Not everyone else is as smart as you are, Lena. The general public is going to read that and think I wrote it,” Kara softly whines, glancing towards the school building, where preparations are already being made for the peace pole ceremony. “We need to get you out of here before you’re seen.”

It doesn’t matter that this is the virtual reality. Even though events here might not seem totally real and Kara has just experienced firsthand how her own perceptions can be twisted and warped, there’s still the big problem of shared experience. There’s still the problem of what people _might_ remember after all of this is over. 

Like J’onn warned her yesterday, the actions they all undertake could have lasting effects in the real world. 

Lena’s reputation could still be permanently ruined. 

“I can’t leave now.” Lena argues, raising her head high. “If I go, everyone will just believe what they read about me.” She’s as brave now as she’s ever been around anyone who has had the wrong impression about her. “We’re attending this ceremony. Everyone can see for themselves that I’m _not_ having a breakdown.” 

Lena struts across the lawn in front of the school.

A school secretary notices Lena first, and dashes off towards a small stage where a podium has been set up. The principal and vice principal are already there waiting. 

Kara watches them all communicate, and then two administrators approach Lena to tell her to leave — that she is no longer welcome. 

Teachers assemble their classes in small herds. The school children are starting to recognize Lena and point her out. News reporters encroach on the school, photographers with their cameras, and Kara can already see how this event is going to go. 

Based on her body language, Lena is offended, but she holds her ground.

“Regrettably, today’s event is cancelled, and will be rescheduled,” The Principal announces over the microphone. “Teachers, please escort your classes back to their rooms.” 

“No, _wait_ — I’m not here to cause trouble,” Lena pleads, just as the school’s security team is called in to deal with her. “Please, let me go.” 

Two guards seize both of Lena’s arms, as if she’s done something terribly wrong, and Kara can hear the cameras flashing.

It’s all falling apart so quickly, and Kara thinks and acts from the heart: she flies up to the stage and seizes the microphone. “The recent article that CatCo published about Lena Luthor is not true,” she states. “Miss Luthor isn’t having a mental breakdown. She’s perfectly stable and exercising sound judgment when it comes to her businesses. In spite of all of the recent tragedies and a past history fraught with suffering, Lena is an upstanding citizen and a fine role model—“

“Supergirl! What about Kara Danvers?” shouts a reporter, who has square glasses to match his square jaw. “She villainized Lena Luthor in her article! She claimed that Miss Luthor is not only highly unstable, but also dangerous! That she has the potential to become an evil doer, just like her brother Lex!” 

Kara hasn’t read the article, but it figures that Dey would defame Lena in every way possible. Angry voices of parents and the screams of children cut off any further questions from reporters.

Some of the parents are yelling threats at Lena, vowing to step in and escort her off the premises themselves, or to do much worse than that. 

“Lena is no villain,” Kara asserts at the top of her lungs, because even with the advantage of the microphone, she’s lost the attention of the crowd. They aren’t taking Supergirl’s word for it for a change — they are more accustomed to trusting _Kara Danvers_ when it comes to Lena’s behavior and motivations.

Kara slips her glasses out of the pocket where she keeps them tucked away for convenience. She puts them on. 

It’s not just an impulsive move — it’s an instinctual one, one born of something deeper than love. 

This gets everyone’s attention and the crowd drops to silence, shocked that their hero is a nothing but a reporter.

“I’m Kara Danvers,” she states, removing her cape in a flourish. “And Supergirl. Please, if you trust in me and all I stand for, then you have to believe me. Lena Luthor is the kindest and most selfless person I have ever known, and I did not write that article about her. There are evils in this world that we need to be united against, but Lena Luthor isn’t one of them. _Lena is good._ She is charitable. She is forgiving. She would do anything to protect this city, and that’s why I will always do whatever it takes to protect her.”

Kara would sacrifice anything for Lena, and now she has — she’s given up her humanity. 

She can imagine Lex’s victorious laugh at how she’s just exposed herself. 

It occurs to her that Lex could have a connection to Andrea or William. How Lex might have played her like a game of chess — anticipating how Kara would move in like a knight to protect the queen. _Effortless._

It makes anxiety swirl inside of Kara and she bends her neck, glancing downward before she looks out at the audience. 

Lena is standing with her jaw dropped in shock. 

The crowd becomes much more chaotic after that, and Kara takes to the air and swoops down to collect Lena.

To Kara’s complete surprise, Lena thrashes in her arms like she wants to fall fifty feet to her death. 

“Kara!” Lena raves, screaming and crying as she beats her tiny fists uselessly against Kara’s chest. “Why would you do that? _Why?_ I am not worth it! Do you hear me? It’s not worth trading every good thing in your life for me! Your job, your normal family life, your privacy! How could you do this?”

Kara cradles Lena against her, still feeling an exhilarating high from rescuing the woman she loves, in spite of the way Lena happens to be acting. 

“They weren’t going to listen, Lena,” Kara insists. “And you’ve worked too hard and too long to prove yourself to everyone in National City. Even if that article was retracted, by then the public’s opinion would have been swayed. They would still doubt you and I know what your reputation means to you. If everyone in this city truly thought you had become like Lex, it would destroy you inside. Besides, all of this is my fault. If I had handled the problem at CatCo differently, all of this could have been avoided.”

It doesn’t matter what she could have done, Kara thinks — there’s no changing it. But she doesn’t regret stepping in to defend Lena and can’t think about the consequences of her choice right now.

Soon either Alex or J’onn will be trying to reach her to discuss the fall-out of her reckless actions, and Kara presses that to the back of her mind in favor of focusing on Lena. 

Lena clings to her neck and searches Kara’s eyes. She weeps openly and rests her forehead against Kara’s as they land on the rooftop of a building. 

“You are worth the sacrifice, Lena,” Kara whispers as she caresses the side of Lena’s neck, rubbing just above her collarbone. “I thought it would be terrible if the city ever found out about me — if I could no longer live an ordinary life as Kara. But ever since Lex vowed to out me, I’ve reflected a lot about who I am and what I would be giving up. I’ve always loved being a reporter because it fulfilled me in ways that being a superhero doesn’t. But one of best things about my career was that I got to work with likeminded people. I don’t have that at CatCo anymore. Maybe I need to find a new path in journalism. Apart from my career, I’m not giving up much. It’s not exactly like my personal life will suffer. I’m not hiding my secret from you anymore. The only worry I have is how my choice will affect Alex and Eliza—“

She’s really downplaying all of this for Lena’s sake. Her decision will require Alex to do a lot of damage control and Eliza to re-arrange her entire life. It could potentially endanger her and all of the people Kara knows. 

Kara is sure that Alex will have a long list of other, better choices she could have made — less drastic, life-altering ones that still could have helped Lena. 

As it is, Lena shakes her head and huffs out a few ideas of her own. “We could have gotten Rojas and Dey to take responsibility for what they did. I could have found other ways to show this city that I truly care—“

Kara has to argue with that, because it’s not just Rojas and Dey who have speculated about Lena’s instability as of late. 

“I don’t think that would have worked, Lena,” Kara softly argues. “It’s not just CatCo that is publishing defamatory stories about you. There are other news outlets that are going to run similar headlines. After everything that happened with Lex and our government, the people are wary of all public figures. They want total transparency. A lot of people are upset about the recent attacks, too, and because of that, they’ll be more willing to believe what the papers are saying.” 

Lena tightens her jaw and nods at that. She wanders towards the edge of the building and stands looking down at the city. “Then I suppose I should say thank you,” she weakly breathes out and tears rush into her eyes. “Thank you, Kara, for thinking the best of me. For believing in me in the first place. For defending me, even when it cost you everything—“

“Not everything.” Kara stands beside Lena, and they both stare out at the streets and other buildings. “I’m still Supergirl. I still have my family and friends. I still have you.” 

_There have been other superheroes who have come out to the public, Kara rationalizes. Maybe this won't be as bad as she's always assumed._

Kara places an arm around Lena and cozies up to her. 

In return, Lena leans into her fully, and then they look at each other. Kara feels a powerful tug of want deep her in her stomach — a desire so strong that she’s not sure if she will be able to stop herself from acting on it. 

Lena’s eyelashes are damp, and her eyes shine with tenderness as they also brim with sorrow. She tips her chin up and seems to wait for her conflicted emotions to pass. 

That brief pause of self-doubt lasts only an instant, and then Lena moves forward to kiss Kara.

Lena kisses like this will be the last time, although it’s only their first. Their lips meld and Kara places a hand on Lena’s face a little demandingly. Matching her force, Lena’s tongue glides in and swipes over Kara’s with a quiet moan. 

The kiss only heats up the longer it goes on, with Lena tangling fingers in Kara's hair and Kara picking her up. 

Lena’s tongue strokes over Kara’s bottom lip, until Kara’s concerned about nothing else but kissing. She has both of her hands underneath Lena and carries her towards the clock tower on top of the building. 

“Let’s go somewhere,” Lena quietly requests, her lips hovering above Kara’s earlobe and raising goose bumps as she speaks. 

Kara shivers in excitement, gaping down at Lena while she considers where to take her. “I know the perfect place,” she happily declares. 

Gathering Lena closer, Kara swoops through the air and travels to the one place she thinks they won’t be disrupted. 

It’s not what Lena expects — that much is clear from the look on her face when they arrive. 

“Kara, when I said we should go somewhere, I meant somewhere a little more private. Somewhere with a bed,” Lena intones. 

They have stopped in front of the shabby-looking door to Al’s Dive Bar. 

“A bed?” Kara asks with a high-pitched laugh. “It’s barely one o’clock in the afternoon. Are you tired already?”

Lena sucks the inside of her cheek and the crease between her eyebrows appears — a sign that she’s perplexed. “ _Tired?_ No—” 

“I know this isn’t the greatest place for a date—“ Kara blurts out before she can think to filter herself. “Did I say date? Well — I just think since we kissed and all, I should at least buy you a drink— “

Al’s is mostly empty, since it’s a week day and still early yet. Kara leans against the bar and orders two cocktails. With both drinks in hand, she leads Lena over to one of the comfortable booths. 

Lena slides in beside her, with a wide smile that wanes away when she gazes into Kara’s eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Kara asks, shooting a glance around the bar with a frown. “This isn’t a romantic night out, or anything, and I know you’re accustomed to way classier places — but at least we won’t have to worry about reporters or photographers—“

“It’s not the place,” Lena firmly insists, and reaches out to take Kara’s hand. “It’s me. It’s us.” She shakes her head, biting down on her lower lip as she blinks back tears. “The other day you asked if I could ever have loved you, and I should have said yes then. But truly loving someone means being honest with that person. And I am _not_ who you believe me to be. We _really_ shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t—“

Kara’s lips curl up in a radiant smile. “Wait — you — you love me?” She bends forward to kiss Lena, bringing a stop to her upset rambling. 

Lena kisses her hard, almost combatively, and Kara has to actively try to be gentle because this feels much more intense than before and she has the urge to push back. 

They break the kiss, and Lena’s chest heaves as she tries to breathe, then she reaches for the glass directly in front of her. 

“Not that one!” Kara frantically intervenes. “It’s too strong—“

Preventing Lena from taking a sip means knocking the glass out of her hands. 

Lena’s mouth falls opens and she touches her chest like she’s just been injured instead of deprived of alcohol.

The glass spins over the table, but thankfully the drink doesn’t get on Lena. 

“I wanted that,” Lena softly sulks, righting the empty glass. “In fact, I’m going to drink several. Let me go order —“

“That cocktail is for aliens-only,” Kara explains and pushes the other drink towards Lena. “Different metabolisms. Drinking that would have killed you.”

“Maybe it would have been a merciful death,” Lena sardonically considers. “I’ll get you another. Be right back.”

Lena walks over to the bar. Kara watches, picking up on how unsettled she is from her body language. 

While waiting for their drinks, Lena takes a shot of tequila. To Kara’s recollection, Lena _hates_ tequila, and this is a sign that something is very wrong.

But Lena returns to the booth with Kara’s cocktail and a glass scotch for herself. 

Kara lifts her glass and holds it out. Lena clinks her scotch glass against it and they both drink.

“To finally repairing our friendship,” Kara says with a smile as she flicks her bangs out of her face. “And to whatever else this might become—“

Not the most eloquent wording, but Kara sells it by brightening her smile, and makes up for her awkwardness by gently massaging at Lena’s shoulder. She’s not in a rush to define her relationship with Lena, and based on the way Lena drowns herself in her drink, it’s clear that they both still have a lot of complicated feelings to process. 

Not to mention, they have to deal with threat of Lex and Leviathan, which Kara has mentally shoved aside, because kissing Lena is more than a little preoccupying. 

Lena’s lips twitch as if she might speak, but then she just leans in and kisses Kara again. 

“I wish I had been able to trust your intentions,” Lena eventually breathes. “Even if I couldn't have forgiven you right away, I wish I would have confronted you a different way. Maybe we would have kissed long ago, and shared all of our secrets, but it doesn’t matter now—“

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter because we have our whole future ahead of us. We can just agree to communicate more. We can—“

Kara’s cut off by Lena nuzzling into her neck, giving a small shake of her head and hushing her by putting a finger over her lips. 

“Kara, we don’t have a future,” Lena stresses, grabbing Kara’s hand. “We have right now and that’s all.” 

Kara’s brow creases in confusion, because this isn’t what she wants or expects to hear from Lena. 

They have been making so much progress, or so she thinks, but the look on Lena’s face tells her otherwise and drives home what’s already been said aloud.

“That’s all?” Kara repeats, slightly high-pitched in her devastation. She can’t figure out the reason Lena feels this way — especially after what they have both been through today. 

Lena’s jaw hardens. “No. It’s because I’ve finally lived up to my family name. I crossed a line and there’s no coming back from it now.”

“Lena, what are you talking about?” Kara asks incredulously. 

“I’m talking about the fact that we were doomed from the start,” Lena rumbles. “We can pretend, but I’m _still_ a Luthor, and Luthors are poison. You and I don’t belong together. Even a friendship between us doesn’t make sense.“

Lena has that turbulent energy, which has always alarmed Kara. 

It’s only surfaced when Lena was facing loss, death threats or extreme danger — when she professed herself to be capable of murder. 

“So when you spent the last few days trying to fix our friendship, you didn’t actually mean it,” Kara says through clenched teeth, drawing the only conclusion that makes sense. “And all that stuff about love — that was just hypothetical. And you kissed me, because why, exactly? Did you think you owed it to me after I came to your rescue? Or, hey, was it because you’re attracted to me, but you’re holding onto so much fear and self-hatred that you’ve decided for both of us that this won’t work out?” 

Kara isn’t level-headed at the moment — her emotions are hitting her like lightning bolts and her eyes flash with hurt. 

Lena surprises her by reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Kara—"

“You’ve spent the last four years showing everyone that you are not like your brother,” Kara forcefully declares. “But you forgot to convince yourself.” 

Lena suddenly pulls her hand back as she stands up, then takes a moment to fix her blazer and compose herself in front of Kara. “It’s taken me a while to realize that some things, no matter how desperately we want them, can't be sustained once we determine what paths we have to take in life. Our paths are leading us to two very different destinations, Kara, and there's nothing you and I can do about it, other than accept that we missed our chance."

Kara stands up, ready to challenge Lena’s way of thinking. “I don't believe that,” she says passionately. “Who we are at our core is truly what matters, regardless of what paths we might take. No matter what you did, you can choose a new path right now and talk to me. Whatever is going on, whatever you think is going to happen, we can change it together. It's not too late for us, even if you’ve made mistakes. We are so much more than our actions, Lena—“

"You say that as if our actions aren't what we're remembered for in the end. Whether you want to face it or not, our actions are _all_ we are, Kara. Who we are is _nothing_ compared to what we do, and you'd be wise to realize that, considering Lex is out there and he's not going to stop until he's taken everything from me. What little I had, anyway.” Lena holds her ground against Kara with her eyes burning bright with conviction. 

“You believe that having good intentions and trying your best will be enough,” Lena continues. “I choose science and practicality because it doesn't come down to mere belief. The fact is, Lex will make his move, and when he does, nobody— not even you —can stop him. Sometimes, Kara, the ends truly do justify the means. Which is why I have to do whatever is necessary, even if that involves stooping to his level.” 

Kara breathes shallowly, her shoulders rising and falling as she makes one last effort to get through to Lena. “Whatever you are thinking of doing, please remember that I _love_ you, Lena. I know you’re terrified enough to go to extremes, but _don’t._ I would fight to my dying breath for you, but I swear that I won’t fail — I am strong enough to take on Lex and anyone else. I’ll keep you safe.”

Lena slides her arms around Kara and holds on, then kisses her for long enough that Kara relaxes, free of tension and argument. 

Kara thinks that she’s talked Lena down, and that fills her with so much relief and joy.

But then Lena pulls back with a quiet apology. “I’m sorry, Kara,” she emphasizes. “I _truly_ am.” 

It’s like a forceful hit to the chest and all Kara can do is stand helplessly as Lena walks away from her, mind made up. 

Except it’s not quite made up the way Kara expects. 

Lena is still determined to follow through with her plan, but with a crucial alteration. 

With a heart burdened by pain and regret, she returns to L-Corp and remotely releases Alex and her mother. They are no sooner moving through the lab than Lena discovers a note on her desk, stamped with Lex’s blue wax seal. 

She picks it up and opens it, scanning lines of poetry by Alexander Pope: 

_With beating hearts the dire event they wait,  
Anxious, and trembling for the birth of fate._

It’s from a poem about a young lady with a protective spirit on her side, whose good advice she ignores in favor of going to an event, where a baron steals a lock of her hair. 

Lex used to read her classic poems and other stories when she was a child. 

She remembers the lesson that Lex tried to teach her with this particular poem. 

She had been curled up beside him in a big armchair, half leaning into him while she looked down at the page, and asked, _“What does it mean?”_

_“It means that the heroine would have been wise to stay at home, where she belonged. She shouldn’t have gone off to play cards with the baron. It’s an allegory, Lena, mostly about female virtue, but the reason I am reading it to you now is because I want you to realize that in any competition with a man, you will come up short. You’re a little girl now, but even as a grown woman, life will teach you this lesson. Men don’t respect women the way they do other men. You need to understand that, or you’ll always be at a disadvantage with them. You are brilliant enough to be their equal in many respects, but there are certain situations in which you shouldn’t even try.”_

She finds a match in her supply drawer, which she never uses to light candles, but keeps on hand nevertheless. Striking a match, she lights fire to the note and lets it burn in her hand. 

Lena steps out onto her balcony and sees a darkened shape on the top of the building across from L-Corp.

The paper is hot enough to leave a mark, and she lets it go. The cinders blow away in the wind.

Tiny robotic lights blink in the dusk - so many that they cover several surrounding rooftops — and Lex’s suit suddenly glows the brightest. 

Lena is ready for him, and for _this_ — ready to prove him wrong.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the halfway point of the fic. The first half has been the "rocky road" and we're almost at the end of it. The last part of the chapter begins the relationship-repair. 
> 
> Before we get there... there are some bumps. Just keep in mind, Leviathan is to blame for a lot of this, and you'll find out more about the leader by the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy the reveal.

The DEO is unusually quiet, except in one small lab where everyone has gathered to wait for Kara. It’s loud in that room, with back and forth squabbling and interruptions that are just as strange as the lack of activity on the main floor. 

Kara speeds into the lab, waving her hands in the air as apologies fly from her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been responding. I’m here now and I can explain everything.“

J’onn has been trying unsuccessfully to reach her for the last few hours, although Kara hasn’t heard anything from Alex. 

Getting the silent treatment feels worse to her than an open confrontation and she’s terrified to face her sister. 

It takes Kara a second to realize Alex isn’t in the room. 

“What you did today put all of us in jeopardy!” J’onn scolds, like an outraged father, his face burning with heat. “You compromised your entire family and potentially this whole operation.” 

“It was the choice I had to make!” Kara blurts out in self-defense, pacing anxiously as she tries to justify it. “I know that this might have lasting consequences in the real world, but I had hoped that making such a huge sacrifice for Lena would help me get through to her. Earlier this morning, I was on the verge of telling her everything about the virtual reality, but I experienced—I don’t know, _a powerful hallucination?_ It prevented me from acting on that plan—”

Kara stalks around the small lab, chin down and shoulders high as she tries to make herself appear tougher than she currently feels. 

“In the hallucination, I was forced to fight Alex — but she wasn’t actually there with me when I came back out of it,” Kara reveals. “It’s clear that the tech, or the person controlling the tech doesn’t want me to disrupt Lena’s deep immersion in this reality. But there are times where Lena is more receptive to me, and I think that’s how we can fix all of this — if I can _just_ get her to trust me again. Right now, Lena is so frightened about what Lex will do that she’s closed herself off. Once we take care of him, we can concentrate solely on Lena and the problem of the tech. Have any of you made progress investigating the possible members of Leviathan?”

J’onn rubs his hand over his face, letting everyone else talk first. He seems to be deep in thought over everything Kara has just shared. 

“I went to Obsidian Tech yesterday afternoon,” Nia reports. “I met with the CEO Ryan Gunn under the pretense of writing an article about him and other leaders in the tech industry.” She lifts her notepad with the questions she must have asked. 

“Gunn and his colleagues are definitely involved with the tech, but I don’t think any of them really know what they signed up to do,” Nia sighs. “The real evil is the corporate structure that’s keeping them ignorant, but still involved in Obsidian Tech’s daily corrupt operations. Gunn told me they’ve also been building a new line of robotics, but he wouldn’t disclose the name of the head engineer on the project. I don’t have other leads unfortunately, or information about who else at the company might be in charge. It could always be someone on their advisory board.”

Kelly looks up from where she has been helplessly staring down at her hands. “I did what I could with Andrea Rojas and William Dey. I uncovered a past connection between Rojas and the Luthors. It seems that Rojas has a personal connection with Lex that goes back to their school days. I called a few of their classmates, but no one really knew anything or wanted to offer up information on Lex Luthor. As a last resort, I asked Nia to put me in a dream state with Andrea last night. I was able to ask some questions, but it was a little freaky in her dreams, if you know what I mean—“

Kara pauses at that and scrunches her brow as she tries very hard not to think about her boss in any sexual situations. 

That disturbing news aside, Kelly’s information seems to fit with what Kara assumed: it’s possible that Lex put Andrea Rojas up to the task of forcing Kara to write that horrible article about Lena. But Rojas might or might not be involved with Leviathan. 

“And we’re sure there’s no way Lex has ties to Leviathan?” Kara asks. 

This is a question that popped into Kara’s head plenty of times and has been nagging at her since Lena walked away from her at the bar. 

“Unlikely but possible,” J’onn sighs. He seems deeply burdened by the enormity of what they have to accomplish in the virtual reality. “Every investigative bureau has been all over Lex in the last six months. If he had a clear connection to Obsidian Tech or Leviathan, I think we’d know about it by now. We won’t rule it out.”

“I recommend that we investigate Dr. Dedalus a little more thoroughly,” Brainy chimes in, with a glance over his shoulder from where he sits at a computer. “I went to his office and I searched through all of his digital files. He apparently met with Lena right before the Obsidian Tech press conference—”

Kara is only half-listening, because her eyes have wandered to Alex — who is rushing at top speed through the DEO, head down and focused on the exit. 

“Wait — Alex is here?” Kara asks in confusion, and checks her phone again, still finding no missed calls or messages from her sister. 

As angry as Alex might be with her right now, this behavior on her part doesn’t make sense.

Smoke begins flooding through the air ducts, immediately affecting visibility throughout the facility. At the same time, an alarm warns that the prisoners held within the DEO have been released.

“What the hell is going on?” J’onn barks, hurrying away to deal with the potential threat. Kara’s already one step in front of him, and Nia follows at their side. 

DEO agents scramble to throw on shields and gear, while Brainy calls out, “I will try to initiate a lockdown!” 

His fingers begin tapping frantically at the keys on the computer, but he’s too slow. 

“I think Alex opened up all of the prisoners’ cells!” Kara concludes in a panic, ready for a fight if it comes to that. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we have to stop them from escaping!” 

Gathering in a tight formation, the DEO agents form a wall with their bodies and shields, blocking the prisoners’ exit — but when the alien enemies finally march forward from the detention blocks, they are nonviolent. 

A group of space raiders are the first to reach the DEO agents. They approach without fighting, acting only as necessary to move obstacles out of their path. Rather than go straight through the DEO agents, they sweep aside the desks and terminals, and the aliens with the ability to fly take off into the air and break the windows to escape. 

The DEO agents are unable to hold them off with all of the smoke, which is strong and sets the humans off into wild coughing fits. 

Kara, J’onn and Nia attempt to subdue as many aliens as they can, and in the middle of the chaos, Alex reappears — this time with Lillian Luthor.

Alex’s mouth drops open when she sees the state of the DEO. “I’m gone for a few days and this is how you guys all cover for me?” she shrilly blurts. She jumps right into the action and attempts to lock down the facility, but it’s no use. The place clears out too rapidly. 

Lillian flicks her eyes around at the debris and gestures to the state of the place. “To give you all a quick run-down on where we’ve been: my daughter held Alex prisoner at L-Corp and used an image inducer to transform Miss Eve Teschmacher into a look-alike. Under the influence of some kind of mind control technology, Miss Teschmacher filled in for Alex at the DEO, and no doubt caused all of this havoc. Yesterday, I discovered Lena’s plans, and she decided to lock me up, too. She’s put her mind control devices into all of these alien criminals so she can fight a war against Lex. He’s apparently been building robots—“

“No… no, Lena wouldn’t do that,” Kara stutters, and for every word she speaks aloud, she feels something heavy sink into her stomach. _Despair._

The Lena she knows wouldn’t do that, but _a frightened and emotionally broken down Lena, who also can’t tell what’s real_? 

Her eyes swing towards her sister, pleading for answers. Alex silently confirms the truth of what Lillian is saying and reaches out to grab Kara’s arm. 

“Lena didn’t hurt me,” Alex explains. “I mean, she has a killer right hook, which she used to knock me out. _That hurt._ But otherwise, I’m mostly okay. While I was trapped in the lab at L-Corp for several days, I had this realization that my mind felt fuzzy. I remembered that none of this was real, and when that happened, I started to question everything—“

Alex gazes around at all of the destroyed equipment, the sparking wires and shattered windows. 

“When we were in Lex’s arsenal, I found documents on Lena’s research related to the mind control tech and the harun-el. There were other projects Lena undertook to recreate some of Lex’s devices. I questioned her, and honestly, I don’t know why it happened, but I jumped to the _worst_ possible conclusions. I didn’t feel like I was fully in control or that I could have a productive conversation with Lena. Somehow in the last few days that’s changed. I feel mentally clearer. I think something changed for _her._ Lena never planned to release me or Lillian, but she made that choice earlier tonight. She let us out—“

Alex seems more upset now, her eyes shining with barely repressed fury and her voice sharp with emotion. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m angry. What she’s done to the DEO, and with these aliens… it shows just how far she’s strayed. Lena could do something absolutely unpredictable — but I can see that she’s wrestling with her inner demons right now. She doesn’t _want_ to make the wrong choices but she feels like she’s been backed into a corner. We really have to help her, or Lena might be lost forever. If that happens, _all of us_ will be lost right along with her.” 

“We need to get to Lena,” Kara urges.

Part of her is too angry at Lena and distraught over what she’s done to Alex. But the more rational side of her recognizes that Lena _isn’t_ just guided by her own moral compass anymore. The tech seems to be working against her, and Lex has made Lena so paranoid that she’s put her own values aside, just so she can survive.

All along, Lena has been suffering and alone, and Kara vowed that she would be _always_ be there. 

Kara shakes off all of the emotions that might hold her back. “If Lena just released the prisoners, she must be preparing to face off with Lex soon. We have to go.”

Alex nods in agreement. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find her.”

Lena’s hair whips at her face as the wind picks up. The top of the L-Corp building is swarming with movement. All of the aliens she’s exploiting have started to gather, and it torments her to use them like this, but they’re the only line of defense she has left against her maniacal brother and his creations. 

Lex is capable of bringing National City to its knees, and she can’t let it happen. _She won’t._

Some of his robots have begun landing around them to form a crude perimeter. Their eerie metal exoskeletons are a cage from which Lena cannot escape and she feels her heart thump wildly in her chest. 

Adrenaline and panic seize her in equal measures, and for a fleeting second she questions if she can do this. She steps back, feeling faint, and falters as something heavy lands behind her.

“I stand with you, Lena Luthor,” comes a deep rumbling voice from a hulking alien that strides to her side. He doesn’t look familiar, and it dawns on her that he’s not one of the alien prisoners that she’s using. 

“You and I have a common enemy.” He declares, baring his teeth. “ _He_ wants all aliens eradicated. We will stop him.” His bright yellow eyes shift from Lena to stare beyond her at Lex, who is biding his time on the roof of a neighboring building that towers well above L-Corp. “Coward.” He snarls, pointing at him challengingly.

Before Lena can utter a word in response, the robots attack en masse. One sprints towards her, and the alien giant lets out a roar in anger. He swings a massive fist and backhands the robot before it can strike Lena, sending it careening into two others that spark as they fly through the air. 

Another bot rushes forward and the huge alien grabs it by the arm, swinging it off the tower to smash into the sidewalk below.

There’s nowhere to hide on the roof, and Lena scans the area fleetingly as she realizes she’s an open target. She pivots, and narrowly avoids being crushed under the weight of a White Martian as it barrels past her with a bot on its back. A second bot is latched around its arm and the White Martian spins to throw itself backwards into the building with such force it sounds like thunder. 

Concrete crumbles in chunks, and from the dust, the Martian reappears with a mangled bot. 

The Martian tosses the heap of metal aside before zipping past Lena at such a speed her clothes flutter. 

With determination, Lena reaches into her pocket and pulls out a device the size of a nickel. It has jagged metal edges and lights that glow blue. 

She throws it at the first bot that passes. The device latches on magnetically and the jagged teeth bite into the metal, embedding in and shooting a new signal through Lex’s robot. 

The robot’s menacing red lenses flicker to blue and it freezes where it stands as Lena takes control of it. 

Lena’s small victory makes her grin, and with her tablet she types in new commands that set the robot off to battle with one of its own kind. The screech of metal as they tangle atop the roof is shrill, but her bot manages to successfully punch through the lenses and sensors of the enemy bot’s face, ripping out the wiring inside. 

Lex’s robot folds in on itself like a deckchair and Lena watches as her bot takes on another.

There’s a sharp cry as the alien Maxima lands on the roof in front of Lena.

Maxima splits the ground beneath her from the impact, but as she staggers back to her feet, she lets out a deranged laugh and enters combat with two bots at once. She ducks and weaves so fast that she’s a blur to Lena. 

With skilled precision, Maxima kicks one of the bots hard enough to dent its exoskeleton but it doesn’t back down as it slashes at her midriff. She’s bruised and bloody but Maxima shows no signs of slowing as she tackles another bot with a wild grin.

Kopy is beside her in an instant, or maybe it’s one of his clones, because Lena can see at least five more of him working in tandem to fight against the hellish machines that Lex has prided himself in making. 

Kopy is quick, but not fast enough as one of the bots lands a punch that sends him toppling ass over feet off the edge of the building. 

Lena jolts forward in horror, but he’s gone, and another flickers to life in his place, signaling that he wasn’t the original. 

“You’re no challenge for me!” The alien K’hund yells, snaring a bot around the waist as he leaps into the air and smashes it to pieces beneath his feet when he lands. He looks like he’s enjoying the conflict, until three bots land before him. He deflects the punches for a while but then he slows just enough for them to break through his defense and suddenly he’s skidding backwards on his ass with a growl of discontent. 

The hellgrammite is leaping around like an oversized grasshopper, never quite getting hit while shooting stingers at everything that moves. One scratches Lena’s shoulder as it flies past to stick into the bot behind her. 

The bot seizes as electricity crackles over it, and Lena rushes to the sidelines before it bursts into flames. Blood drips from her wound but Lena ignores it as the war rages on. 

All around the city, people are reporting sightings of Lex’s bots causing destruction. 

The police are out in force to stop it, scattered all over, with nobody aware of the situation atop L-Corp. It’s all part of Lex’s master plan, serving as a distraction as he pursues his real goal, defeating Lena.

The wail of sirens becomes a constant soundtrack to compete with the crunching thud of bones and metal meeting with extreme force. Metallic screeching from bots being dragged over concrete is interspersed with animalistic and alien cries as wires and limbs are broken on both sides.

It’s unnerving to listen to, and worse to witness. 

Lena has been trying to scramble the signal to the bots without success, and now she’s frantically trying a work-around to hack into Lex’s systems. 

Every trick she tries backfires, and she’s angry with herself for not excelling faster at disabling their functions, but she refuses to give up.

These aren’t the same types of bots that Lex previously used in his arsenal, but there are some similarities and that means they will be weak to fire. 

In a fit of rage Lena realizes she would burn L-Corp to the ground if it meant bringing down Lex and his contraptions once and for all.

A harsh wind picks up as one of the DEO helicopters circles the building. The noise of the propellers is jarring to Lena’s senses as she fights to concentrate on her task.

Bullets whiz past her to batter into robots near the edge, but there’s too many aliens for the DEO to open fire for long, and when Supergirl flies past to block a stray bullet from hitting Lena, she can see the anger on the Kryptonian’s face. Supergirl jets off to reprimand the trigger-happy agent that endangered Lena’s life. 

The roof is filled, and there’s no space for the helicopter to land, so ropes are flung out and J’onn and Alex zip down them with weapons drawn to blast the bots that rush for them. Nia and Lillian are next, with Brainy and a few other agents, as Supergirl dives for one of the robots and flies off with it. She drops it from a great height to smash to pieces atop L-Corp's roof, creating a divot that caves in when the White Martian runs across it. The Martian sinks through the ceiling with a distorted cry, its clawed hands carving ridges through concrete as it disappears below them.

J’onn sneers at it in disgust but his conflict with the creature has no place in this as he stands back to back with Alex. They double team the bots that are still flying down—a swarm of parasites that feels never ending to Lena as she watches the people she knows destroy them with tactical malice. 

Lillian appears to be holding her own, but she doesn’t stray from Nia’s side as the younger hero panics at the carnage unfolding. She tosses her a weapon, and instructs her to attack the weak spots on the robots, even as she searches wildly for her daughter.

They make eye contact, and Lena sucks in a breath as Lillian nods in the calm, calculated way that says she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. 

There’s no time to convey anything else as Lex finally makes his move. 

He zips through the air in his enhanced Lexosuit to pursue Lena, but just as his hands graze the fabric of her dress, Supergirl flies straight into him and they crash through the adjacent building and out of sight. 

Screams echo from the building and Lena hears the sound of glass shattering as Lex and Kara erupt from a window and into the air. 

Lex is maneuvering swiftly, blasting at Kara as they soar into the sky. Kara’s taking the brunt of it head-on as she follows after him, and then they’re hidden within clouds that light up from energy blasts and laser vision. 

Lena can’t watch anymore and she turns her back with a heavy heart as she extends the night stick she’s concealed in her pocket. She slams the rod against the nearest bot’s head viciously. It barely dents, but she hits it again, and again, and soon there’s a spark that flashes back at her in warning. 

“Well, isn’t this fun?” Lex jeers from above her. Evidently he’s lost Supergirl long enough to come back to gloat, and he lowers the visor on his suit to grin wolfishly at Lena as he hovers out of reach. “Reminds me of old times, and all of the strategy games we used to play.” He waves a hand as if showing off his toys, but his smile drops as he states somewhat dramatically, “I’m a very sentimental man, Lena. I needed to stand back and admire your skill _one last time._ ”

He regards Lena in that fond way he always has and the helmet on his suit folds back fully as he lands before her. Reaching out a gloved hand to rest on her shoulder, he softly announces, “I don’t _really_ want to kill you. It’s such a waste of brilliance.”

Lena scrapes his arm off her shoulder and glowers at him. “Funny that you’re conflicted, because I have no qualms at all about killing you _again,_ ” she spits. 

Lex grins broadly at that, and with all the flare of a showman announces, “Bitter until the very end. What you fail to see Lena, is that in a way, _I created you._ I made you who you are today. It’s going to be like ruining my greatest invention. But progress demands sacrifice and you’ve run your course.”

Lena sneers back it him, unafraid and ready for anything. “The only thing you’ve ever truly made are messes, Lex, and you’ll make a spectacular one on the sidewalk when I’m done with you.”

Lex throws his head back and laughs at that. “You always were the feisty one out of the two of us. It’s because you’re more driven by emotion. You waste your time on petty feelings, whereas I’m more calculating. My mind is sharp because I don’t dull it with the mundane.”

“If net worth was determined by arrogance you’d have more money than Bezos.” Lena drawls, tired of her brother’s constant boasting. “All of these years, and you still have to inflate your own ego by trying to diminish me. I’m starting to think you’re overcompensating, Lex.”

“What you think has never been relevant. You’re just a puppet that dances for anyone who pulls at your strings. You even set your own stage for it.” Lex informs her candidly, and there’s sadistic glee in his expression that makes Lena’s chin jut out, as it often did when she was a child reacting to his cruelty. 

Words have always been Lex’s first weapon of choice, and when he sees the crack in Lena’s composure he attacks with verbal ferocity. “Look around you, Lena. In what world other than one of your own making would Lillian Luthor _ever_ work for the DEO and come running to save someone as _pathetic_ as you? You’re not even her blood. You’re the messy stain that tarnished her life and she’s spent decades trying to remove you.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Lena hisses, but there’s a lurch as her reality seems to shift, and for a split second she’s precariously aware that something is terribly wrong. 

Fragmented memories crash together and then there’s a searing burn that feels like a hot poker being jammed through her temple, scraping at the inside of her skull. 

Lena clamps her hands over her ears as her vision blurs. The battle around her flickers in and out of focus. Everyone’s there, then gone, and she doubles over in the darkness to let out an ear piercing scream that shakes the very foundation of L-Corp. She feels it crumble beneath her feet to swallow her whole. 

_Except it doesn’t._ Lena hasn’t moved, and Lex has never stopped talking. 

Lena can barely make out his words as she sucks in a deep breath and wildly looks around at her former friends. Her heart is pounding so fast she’s pretty sure she’s close to experiencing cardiac arrest and she simultaneously understands that _all of this is happening in her head_ , but also in some of theirs too. 

What had started out as a safe way to explore her own fragile and fractured emotions has become devastatingly surreal with dangerous consequences, and Lena doesn’t have time to process it all.

“Speak of the devil in high heels—“ Lex is saying as he gestures suddenly. 

Lena can’t help how her eyes dart to follow his hand towards Lillian, who is still standing strong against his bots. 

With ruthless accuracy, Lillian fires at the chest of a robot nearing Lena, spraying shrapnel into the air like deadly confetti. Lillian looks concerned, but she can’t get closer with the riot happening all around her, and Lena feels a pang of longing for the mother she never had in her.

Alex and J’onn are still fighting as a unit, but Alex is tiring and J’onn is picking up her slack. He tries his best to protect her, but the bots don’t slow down with her, and one of them punches Alex so hard that Lena imagines she can hear the snap of a rib as she’s knocked off her feet. 

Nia appears to be bleeding and Brainy is guarding her with Kelly by his side. The trio are being backed towards the edge and Lena experiences a stab of guilt that has her gasping. 

These people had been her friends, and Lena feels her sanity tearing apart. Half of her wants to intervene, while the rest of her wants to see them brought to their knees for the lies they weaved around her for literal years. She never asked them to help, she didn’t bring them here, and she doesn’t owe them a damn thing, even if the idea of any of them being injured sickens her to her stomach. 

“Looks like you got the band back together for a farewell concert,” Lex taunts, strolling around Lena to whisper into her ear. “And they have no idea how much you truly resent them all.” He laughs mockingly, and slaps a hand onto Lena’s shoulder while he watches his bots take the upper hand in the battle. “That’s the thing with these self-proclaimed heroes. They’re all so ready to die for people who don’t give a damn about them. I suppose that’s fortunate.”

Lena knows this is a trick, that Lex is trying to get into her head to make her waver. She pushes back with a few fast clicks on her device, and increases the adrenaline outputs in the aliens’ systems, giving them the speed they need to take out more robots.

The effect is instantaneous, and Lex is jolted out of his smugness as one of the aliens viciously rips the head off a bot and throws it at him. The impact against his suit won’t hurt, but it startles him enough to take a step back.

“Your attempts to redirect my attention are sloppy.” Lena insists, spinning to face Lex. Raising her chin defiantly, she levels him with a look of pure disgust. She feels the impact of Supergirl landing beside her, the tremble that resonates through the roof, and Lena impulsively states, “Even now you underestimate me, Lex. You think you can sway me with emotion, but you forget it was _you_ who impressed upon me that I’ve never had allies, and I certainly don’t need them now.”

“That’s _not_ true, Lena,” Kara protests, thrusting herself forward and into the middle of the conflict. She lasers two bots in the chest, melting away cavities the size of her fists in the metal, then freezes another with her breath. The bot shatters as J’onn fires three shots into its back. 

“We were always your friends.” Kara insists as she turns to shield Lena from attack. “In spite of everything, we can still get past this. We all can. _There’s still time,_ ” Kara pleads with raw emotion. 

Lena stares back at her, feels the sting of tears in her eyes as her vision swims. She rasps thickly. “Don’t be so naïve. Things will never be the same, there’s no going back to what once was.” It’s devastating to acknowledge that her own attempts to work through her emotional trauma are the real reasons for that and she trembles as she spits out, “And even if we could, why would I risk everything for the people who deceived me so thoroughly?”

“Because this isn’t you, Lena, and deep down you know that.” Kara fiercely asserts, her cape billowing out behind her as she deflects energy blasts from the bots encroaching. “I know you’re hurting, I know what I did left you questioning _everything_ in your life and all the people in it that you love, and maybe that makes me more human than I’ve ever been because I messed up. I messed up _so bad_ but I’m here. I will never give up on you, or us, and neither will they. Don’t you see? I left Earth behind to find you in this reality, and I’d do it all over again, Lena, because—”

“ _Stop._ ” Lena chokes out, because Kara’s words are cutting through her more than Lex’s ever could, and she feels torn to shreds, ravaged by the emotions that Kara is ripping out of her. It’s a pain like no other. Her heart feels like it’s being stitched together and lacerated at the same time and she can’t take it. 

“Lena, please,” Kara begs, her eyes shining with unshed tears and all the love that she feels for Lena. 

Kara’s stepping closer, her hand outstretched as she tries to reach Lena in ways that aren’t just physical. “You must know by now that you—”

“ _That’s enough,_ Kara.” Lena bites out in warning, so sharp that her teeth clash together. The fighting around her is nothing to the war wreaking havoc inside her. She feels even more volatile as the surge of feelings she’s tried so hard to bury begins to surface so fast. 

Lena is frightened by the way her body reacts to Kara’s proximity, and how despite her demand to _stop_ , she feels an almost magnetic pull that forces her to take a step closer to Kara.

Kara sees it as a sign that she’s finally getting through to Lena, and sucks in a broken, relieved sob, only to exhale earnestly, “You mean more to me than the worl—”

There’s a resounding snap as the silver device Kara has kept on her person activates. It splits in half as elegantly as a butterfly’s wings parting. 

Lena is breathing heavier as she takes her thumb off the control, and Kara can only blink up at her in surprise when the device plunges a needle deeply into her midriff. Kara winces when it strikes, and a startled sound escapes her as she looks at Lena with wide, betrayed eyes. She grasps at her torso in disbelief and staggers closer to Lena as chemicals inject into her. It must hurt like hell, because the Kryptonian clenches her teeth and all the veins in her body turn a bright, burning orange.

“Kara,” Lena whispers brokenly. “It was always going to end like this.” That doesn’t make it any easier to witness, and Lena stumbles forward in devastation, her hands outstretched.

“ _Why_?” Kara gasps, but that’s all she gets out before she drops like a sack of bricks at Lena’s feet.

There’s a moment of silence that’s shattered by Lex as he claps loudly. His laughter is rich as he moves to stand beside Lena so he can kick National City's fallen hero onto her back. Kara’s limp body doesn’t react and Lex crows, “You actually killed Supergirl just to avoid dealing with your feelings for her!” He’s ecstatic by the ruthlessness Lena has displayed and he can’t help but revel in her anguish. “This whole time I’ve doubted you were ever truly a Luthor but _this_ \--” He motions towards Kara with a diabolical grin, “This proves once and for all that you, Lena, are every bit the Luthor I am. You’ve finally lived up to the family name. It’s just a pity that you’ll be joining her in death so soon after such a twisted victory.”

Lena hates him, now more than ever, but her voice sticks in her throat. The contents of her stomach are threatening to expel out of her at high velocity. 

Amidst the chaos, there’s a collective outcry from all of her former friends, and suddenly Alex is thrashing through the bots and elbowing the aliens out of the way. Lillian and the rest of the gang are hot on her heels, and everyone looks stricken. There’s a fearlessness to their panic, and they shove their way through the carnage to get to her and Kara.

“What the hell have you done to her?” Alex screams, throwing herself down beside Kara as she rushes to check for a heartbeat. “Kara wake up, you have to get up, please get up,” Alex begs. Her hands are smoothing Kara’s hair from her face and she’s sobbing openly as she clutches at Kara’s shoulders to shake her. 

Nia, Brainy and Kelly crouch down beside Alex, but whatever they’re murmuring doesn’t seem to be comforting her as she lets out an anguished wail and flings herself over her sister.

J’onn’s anger stems from the place of a parent, and his face contorts as he spins on Lena with unbridled rage. “She never gave up on you, not for a second, and you’ve taken her from us and doomed us all to Leviathan!” His eyes burn a bright red and his hands are clenched as he snarls, “The very thing she was trying to save you from! How could you do that?”

“She loved you.” Brainy suddenly states, his tone somber and eyes downcast as if this is a scenario he’d never once considered.

“We all did.” Nia adds numbly, her jovial spirit snuffed out as she looks at Lena as though she’s a figure from a nightmare she’d only just had.

“Oh, this day is filled with unexpected surprises.” Lex announces in an amused tone, his grin wide and eyes sharp as he takes in the sight of Lillian clasping Lena’s arm in shock. 

The robots advance on the group, cutting Lena off from her former friends, who are still frantically trying to help Kara. The other aliens are outnumbered and losing ground, and Lex takes the opportunity to grab Lena by the arm to tear her away from his mother. 

“A new world is awakening, Lena,” Lex informs her with a wild, psychotic grin as he drags her closer to the edge of L-Corp’s roof. “I should thank you, I suppose, since it was _you_ who was the catalyst all along. It’s a shame that your poor choices have spoiled the fruits of your labor, but while you may have created a new dawn for mankind, I will be the master that shapes it into true greatness.”

“You’ve finally lost your mind,” Lena grates out incredulously. “I always knew it would be a matter of time, but I thought you’d last a bit longer before you truly succumbed to your own narcissism.”

Lex sneers at her, and tips his head back to gaze at the darkening sky as he declares, “Even now you’re so blind to what’s staring you right in the face. This whole time, you’ve been dabbling in virtual reality tech, working to improve a certain Dr. Dedalus’ original lenses, and somehow you overlooked the most obvious piece of the puzzle. Didn’t you ever wonder about that name?”

Lena experiences another lurching sensation that takes hold when she begins to see a bigger picture forming beyond herself and Kara. She’d been so focused on herself that she hadn’t given enough time to consider who this Dr. Dedalus really was and why Obsidian Tech sought her out at the worst moment of her life. “It’s a Ulysses reference,” Lena slowly acknowledges, her stomach filling with dread. “James Joyce. But there’s also the Greek myth of Daedalus and Icarus. The father who wanted his son to fly, so he built him a set of wings—”

Lex tightens his arm around Lena and trembles with excitement as he slips into an episode of megalomania. “You are _my_ set of wings, Lena. You are the gift our father promised to me. He rescued you from foster care because he saw your potential, and I ensured that you would reach it.”

The mention of their father startles Lena, and she makes a quiet pained noise, but it’s the way Lex speaks of her that truly leaves Lena feeling unsettled. “You say that as if I were a stray dog he’d picked up at the pound for you.” 

“In a manner of speaking, that’s exactly what you were.” Lex agrees, and he laughs at the crestfallen look that washes across Lena’s face as he takes another step to the edge of the roof. “You can’t be surprised by that, Lena. Even mother treated you like a mutt.”

She doesn’t want to die like this — in complete confusion, wondering what the hell her brother is talking about, and about the connection between their father and Dr. Dedalus. 

Lionel had been a good man. That’s all she’s ever known of him, but as her mind races with possibilities, she tries to view him in a different way — as someone who only wanted to use her.

It’s not a hard mental exercise, considering every other person in her life has used her. It opens up sealed off memories — recent ones of meeting with the mysterious Dr. Dedalus and older ones of her father, but just as she’s about to have a revelation, Lex swings her around to face him and raises one of his arm cannons towards Lena’s head. “I’ll indulge you Lena, and give you this chance to say any final words you may have.”

Lena prides herself in the way she raises her chin without fear, and sneers as she informs him matter-of-factly, “I remotely disabled that while you were rambling earlier. Perhaps you should reconsider being so long winded when you’re trying to enact your diabolical plans.” 

His Lexosuit won’t remain like this for long, but Lena hopes it will be long enough for her to keep him distracted. She strikes him first, taking a cheap shot at his face because he can no longer put his helmet up. The sound of her knuckles breaking his nose fills her with a sense of satisfaction.

It’s short lived. He grabs her by both of her arms and hauls her towards the edge of the building, grunting loudly in her ear.

Lena goes limp, leaning her full weight away from him until Lex struggles to drag her. His labored breaths are as rough like his temper as he snarls through his teeth. “You’ve always been such an obstinate fool.” His hands lose their traction, and as they slide down her arms, Lena wrenches herself free of his grasp to land heavily on her back. 

She scrambles onto her feet as Lex sucks in air, and then she launches herself at him with reckless abandon. Lena claws at his face, and sinks her short nails into his ears to pull him closer to the spot where she wants him. He’s physically stronger, and wearing protective armor, so she’s at a disadvantage in this fight, but Lena has nothing to lose and that makes her far more dangerous than he anticipated.

All around them, the robots and aliens are still warring, unable to interfere in their feud. Every time a bot tries to help Lex, an alien knocks it back, but there’s so many of Lex’s creations that it’s becoming harder for the aliens to hold them off.

Lex lets out a growl of frustration and pain, and grabs for Lena’s wrists to finally pull her off of him. She hisses at the vice-like way he twists her hands and she relents in submission as her knees buckle. 

“It’s about time you finally learned your place.” He taunts her through a smirk, then backhands her roughly with his glove to send her stumbling.

Lena’s lip splits and she reels from the blow, but it gives her a chance to locate the night stick she’d used earlier, and she brandishes it at him threateningly. “I’d say I’m sorry that it’s come to this, but given that I’ve already killed you…” 

Lena quirks a dark eyebrow and then strikes fiercely.

The metal rod clashes against Lex’s arm as he raises it just in time to protect his face. He kicks at her, but she’s not in a metal suit and is faster on her feet. She dodges around him and flings her arm back to crack the nightstick over his shoulders. 

He turns to punch at her, and manages to grab hold of the rod with a victorious smirk that she knocks right off his face when she headbutts him roughly.

They stumble apart as Lillian begins shouting at them, while J’onn and Nia defend the group from robots. Alex is still clinging desperately to Kara, her tear streaked face a mask of misery and desperation. 

Lena falters at the sight of Kara so lifeless. Panic builds within her and all it takes is that second of distraction for Lex to get the upper hand. 

He grabs Lena and wraps both of his hands around her neck to hiss gleefully. “Before you die, I’m going to enlighten you, Lena, since you failed to come to the conclusion yourself, and I’m tired of this dance.” His hands tighten around her throat and he pulls Lena closer so that he can see her entire life collapse in her eyes when he screams, “ _Our father is Dr. Dedalus_ , and I am like Icarus,” He proclaims, grinning madly as he chokes her more forcefully, “I’m ready to soar.”

Lena stares at Kara, because she knows in this moment that she has lost -- that her plan has somehow failed. For a pathetic moment Lena feels like she deserves this. She doesn’t want to live when everything that had once mattered is gone. Her feet are dangling as Lex hoists her into the air and she grasps uselessly at his hands in an attempt to pry him off. 

Then Lena sees it, the sign that she’s been waiting for, a flicker of movement that leaves Alex gasping. Even as her vision blurs and the blood vessels in her eyes begin to pop like minute fireworks, Lena laughs. It comes out as a sputter from between her purple lips but there’s no mistaking it. 

“This is perverse, even for you,” Lex affirms, but he’s unnerved by Lena’s reaction and his hands loosen because of it. 

Just enough for Lena to wheeze out, “Icarus may have flew, but he perished when he got too close to the sun. Just as you will.”

It’s then that chemicals from the device Lena created happen to jolt Kara back to life, and she bolts upright, looking as radiant and alive as she’d ever been. Alex is in shock, and Kara is on her feet in an instant, feeling more powerful than she’s ever been. Whatever is coursing through her is strong, and she inhales sharply.

“You’re alive.” Alex whispers, stunned. She looks confused and relieved all at once.

“I’m alive.” Kara reaffirms, then scans the roof. “Where’s Lena?” She husks, spinning on her heels.

Alex pushes herself up to stutter, “We-we thought she’d killed you. Lex...”

Kara finally spots her, can probably hear the frightened staccato of Lena's heartbeat. When they lock eyes, Lena tries to apologize, but the words are cut off along with her oxygen as Lex tightens his fists and tries to crush her windpipe.

Kara shoots off so fast that everyone in her path is scattered and suddenly Lena is falling on her ass as Kara tackles Lex off the building. She’s punching him as they fall until his Lexosuit fires up and then they’re hovering above National City and fighting so viciously that chunks of the neighboring buildings are blasted off. She lasers him in the chest, and sends him skidding across the roof of L-Corp. He fires kryptonite back at her and lands three shards that explode on impact. Kara’s still flying and looks as shocked as he does when he drops his visor to confirm that she’s unharmed. He shakes his arm as if the cannon is at fault and blasts her again, but nothing happens and Kara zips from the sky to launch Lex off the building.

“How did you do this, how am I immune to Kryptonite?” Kara asks, amazed, as she hovers before Lena. 

“It’s temporary.” Lena rasps. ”We can get into the specifics later.” There’s no time to fully explain it all, and thankfully Kara senses that, and breezes back into the fight. 

Several days ago, Lena tested out how Kara’s blood interacts with different chemicals and harun-el. She identified a few isotopes that when working in a Kryptonian’s body will both shield her cells from Kryptonite vulnerabilities and increase their solar-based processes tenfold, even without any sunlight. The bioluminescence from an angler fish, combined with other plant proteins, raw harun-el, mercury and a special compound are all part of what she injected into Kara. The only flaw is that it temporarily knocks Kara out.

Kara single-handedly destroys the rest of the bots surrounding them in seconds, then lands before Alex, who pulls her into a hug so fierce Kara jokes that Alex will crack another rib.

They’re so wrapped up in relief that they fail to see Lex return. He’s hovering above them all, staring at the massacre of his robots as he yells furiously, “This means nothing! I will exterminate anyone that gets in my way! This is _my_ destiny, and you, Lena — you are only a means to an end. Our father never loved you. You were always a pawn. That’s all you've been your entire life! Someone to be manipulated, moved strategically into the places you needed to be, and then knocked off the board—“

There’s a sudden loud crackle of energy from nowhere and Lex’s suit electrifies until he’s convulsing within the metal. 

In spite of the horrible things he’s just shouted at her, Lena screams out for him, but his eyes have rolled back and he’s frothing at the mouth as he plummets from the sky to land in a mangled heap of smoldering flesh and metal. 

Lillian hurries over to her, and Lena reaches out for her mother before she can stop herself.

“Did you kill him?” Lena asks incredulously, turning to her mother, who seems just as shocked.

“I wish I had,” Lillian admits dryly. “But unfortunately, no, it wasn’t me.” She scans the night sky for the source of the electricity and the rest of the gang do the same.

Lena stands dumbfounded beside her mother until Kara approaches and reaches out to touch her shoulder. She instinctively throws herself into Kara’s arms and they latch onto each other tightly, chests heaving from the intensity of the fight and all the pent up emotions they can no longer contain.

“Kara, I’m sorry,” Lena exhales in a rush, her voice warbling and tears burning in her eyes. She is _sorry_ about how all of this turned out, and just how many awful risks she'd taken to defeat Lex. “For everything: Alex, the aliens, Eve... I’m sorry for lying to you, even after you sacrificed so much to protect my reputation—“

“I’m so sorry, too, Lena, but there will be time to talk about all of that later. Right now I need to tell you something,” Kara hesitantly begins, lifting Lena’s chin so that they are looking at each other. “We aren’t in National City. Everything looks and feels the same, but we’re actually trapped inside of your virtual reality. A terrorist organization called Leviathan altered your algorithm and it’s preventing you from opening your eyes. They plan to use all of the applications of your tech to control everyone and—”

There’s a roar of thunder that shakes the sky, quickly followed by a crack of lightning that illuminates the clouds. For a precarious second, Lena thinks she’s having an aneurysm as she sees a _man_ striding through the air towards them, breaking every law of physics. 

“That isn’t just the plan,” He states, his voice carrying unbelievably well, as if he is omnipresent. There’s an arrogance in his tone which Lena hasn’t heard in years. The group instinctively steps back as the man walks calmly onto the top of L-Corp and brushes off his jacket that had been ruffled by the wind. “We’re deep into the implementation phase, finally.”

Lillian reacts first. She instinctively steps in front of Lena to shield her as she shrilly announces, “Lionel, you deplorable bastard, do none of the men in the Luthor family _stay_ dead?”

Lena’s face pales as she turns to her father — the man she always idolized. A small crease of tension appears between her eyebrows. She can feel the veins that run from her hairline down to her temple begin to throb.

Lionel raises his hand palm up and extends it to Lena. He ignores his wife and everyone else gawking at him. “Lena, my girl, it’s time to go.”

“Don’t you dare come near my daughter.” Lillian bites out, and Lena thinks she might be sick because she can hear her father laughing, and Kara is pulling her back to keep her safe.

“She’s _never_ been yours, Lillian, but she is mine, and we have a lot to discuss.” Lionel intones, then he snaps his fingers and the entire sky turns into a blinding, white light that disorients them all so thoroughly that it takes everyone a second to see what’s happened.

Lionel is gone and he’s taken Lena with him.


	15. Chapter 15

Kara’s cape flutters softly in the wind as she stands alone at the corner of L-Corp’s tower. The destruction behind her is too much to face, and the eerie quiet of the city disturbs her to the point that a small shudder goes through her back.

The DEO agents have long since rounded up the last of the aliens, both the injured and the unharmed. There isn’t a single person left to help or save, _except for Lena_ — but Kara has no way of knowing where Lionel took her. 

She has nothing to do but stand around and reflect on her problems — the wreckage of her relationship with Lena, and the choices they both made that led to this moment. 

It’s the first time that she _really_ allows herself to acknowledge her own hurt feelings – the deep ache and devastation that she’s been living with these last few months. 

Her hands shake as she lifts them, her blood still coursing with supercharged power. 

She hurts from losing Lena in the first place. From all of the things Lena said to her afterwards, from the last few days of getting a glimpse at what their domestic life could be like, only to find out that Lena didn’t fully mean it. 

Under all of that hurt is another layer. There’s a deeper pain, which Kara won’t even name, because that agony is worse than Kryptonite, and brings out a streak of darkness in her that eclipses her whole sense of purpose. 

That layer of pain and loss, Kara won’t even touch. 

She’s not the priority right now, not when there’s a bigger crisis developing. The world is at risk, and her own personal world - Lena - is missing. 

Still, it’s hard to focus on any form of strategizing when Kara has no idea where to begin. She just keeps imagining Lena in her father’s arms, helpless as he carries her off. 

After flying around for a few hours, Kara has turned up nothing. Futilely, she tries to search the city for Lena’s heartbeat again, and ends up screaming out loud in frustration. 

That gets everyone’s attention, and Kara turns around to see her friends and family staring in concern.

It’s been a hard night, especially when it came to telling Alex about how she exposed herself to National City. 

Alex had remained calm and understanding, which somehow made Kara feel even more awful. Her sister had simply told her that they have bigger problems to handle right now — pressing, _world-ending_ problems. It had been Alex’s way of pushing the issue aside for later, but it doesn’t sit right with Kara. 

She feels like she could scream again, but Alex approaches her quickly and lays a hand on her shoulder. 

“Talk to me, Kara,” Alex quietly demands, walking her towards the helicopter pad and away from the group. 

“Talk to you?” Kara bursts out, unable to modulate her voice or put her emotions in check. “What am I going to say? That we’re in this huge mess because of me? That we’re probably just going to sit here, and wait around until we either die, or our entire reality shifts around us? Or should we discuss how Lena is probably out there suffering at the hands of her insane father, because I continuously failed to tell her who I really am and how I really feel? Maybe we can chat about how I ruined everything and revealed my identity to National City, just because of a crazy instinct and a hope that it would _actually_ make a difference to Lena—“

Kara doesn’t feel worthy of comfort right now. She doesn’t think any conversation will help with the tremendous void of fear and hopelessness that’s threatening to overtake her.

“It _did_ make a difference,” Alex says, sympathy all over her face as she follows Kara. “Whatever you did recently lifted the influence of the tech so that we could think clearly in this virtual world. You can’t blame yourself for anything, not when the tech has constantly manipulated all of us and Lena. It’s stopped all of our attempts to communicate effectively. It pushed me into thinking the worst about Lena and her research. If Leviathan’s goal is to use the algorithm to control everyone’s minds, as J’onn suspects, then it’s starting with every one of us. Leviathan wanted Lena to feel isolated and to handle the problem of Lex all on her own. She wouldn’t have launched such a full-scale deception if she hadn’t felt like the only person she could rely on was herself. And in spite of all of that, you _still_ got through to her, Kara. _Your actions shifted something. I felt it._ These aren’t normal circumstances. This isn’t our normal world, and you _need_ to stop carrying the weight of it on your shoulders.” 

Kara rocks forward on her feet as all of her pent up, explosive frustrations start to spark inside of her. She doesn’t know how to do what Alex is asking of her. She can’t stop herself from feeling so responsible. “It might not be our normal world, but the threat is still the same,” she shrilly points out. “We don’t even have a plan—“

Alex gestures around at the skyline and fixates on her with a look of determination. “We are going to find Lena, and I’m holding out hope that when we do, she will be able to undo most of this — including what you did by revealing your identity to everyone. Lena’s mind control technology might as well serve one useful purpose before we completely destroy it. Everyone in National city is already connected through the tech. It could be an easier fix than we think. For now, we just have to focus on one thing: locating Lena. I’m sure she’s already out there fighting back against the tech’s influence. Through her, we can fight Leviathan—“

Kara’s chin trembles agitatedly and she slams her fist into a broken bot, hard enough that it spins off the building. 

Alex’s face shows her concern, but Kara’s lashing out only makes her even more persistent. 

“Do you remember when Maggie and I broke up?” Alex asks, dropping her voice lower as she brings up the uncomfortable topic. “Those were hard days for me. What you’re going through with Lena is very different, but I’ve been comparing the two situations. I know on some level you’ve always had feelings for Lena, but your secret prevented you from really getting close to her. Then you lost her—“

Alex squints a little in the bright light of dawn, and blinks, averting her eyes to the rooftop below her boots. “Even though I wish you had listened to my advice instead of coming in here to tackle this problem all on your own, I get why you did it,” she explains. “I even understand why you told all of National City that you’re Supergirl. People will say you did a crazy, irrational thing, but that’s not what I think. You love Lena. _You_ deserve happiness, Kara, just as much as anyone else. You deserve a real chance with her. You took a big risk, and right now I am choosing to believe that it will all be worth it.”

Falling into reflective silence, Alex glances back at Kelly, who’s sitting far away against a pile of rubble, but still notices her and smiles in her direction. 

“We have to figure out the full capabilities of the tech and stop it from pushing Lena towards self-destruction,” Alex asserts, still staring thoughtfully at Kelly. “We need Lena to know we’re all her allies. I might not always agree with her methods, and I will _definitely_ be having conversations about that with her in the future, but there’s no telling where we’d be right now if she had done even one thing differently with Lex. National City would be in complete ruins, I’m sure, and there would be a body count. So far there’s been no casualties.”

Kara puts her hands on her hips and exhales a quiet breath of relief, although her relief passes into anxiety again the minute she glances around. “Lena. What if she’s dead, Alex? I can’t hear her heartbeat. I mean, I couldn’t hear it the other day when I was searching for her, either, but—"

“Leviathan still needs her,” Alex insists, preventing Kara from entertaining unlikely and horrible scenarios. “She isn’t dead. Her father plans to use her to create a whole new world and I doubt he’s as far along in the process as he claims to be. We just can’t be sure of what kind of shape Lena will be in when we reach her. You know, after I found out that Lena knew about your secret, Kelly helped me to understand her on a deeper level — all of the traumas she’s been through, and all of her trust issues. I can’t imagine having a sibling like Lex, or a set of parents like the Luthors. Whenever we get out of here, we’re going to have a lot of work to do on ourselves and all of our relationships. But like you told Lena, we _can_ fix all of this. We have to fix it—” 

Kara opens her mouth to agree, but she’s not able to say anything, because Lillian is fixating on her with a cold stare.

Lillian stalks across the rooftop and as she gets closer, the menacing gleam in her eye grows stronger. “Will you stop all of this wallowing in self-pity, _Supergirl?_ Fix your cape and pull yourself together,” she commands. “We need to help my daughter. I just had an epiphany about where she might be. You and I will go—“

Kara firms her chin as she looks at Lillian, and wonders how the hell they’re going to work together to save Lena.

In spite of how Lillian’s been helping out at the DEO, Kara still doesn’t have the best track record with Lena’s mother. She can’t imagine it’s going to get any better in the future, especially now that Lillian knows how Kara feels about her daughter. 

“I should go alone,” Kara insists.

“That was how we got into this situation in the first place,” Alex warns, glancing back at the rest of their friends. “We’re all going to stick together from this point on. No one gets left behind and we make decisions as a group, by talking to each other.”

Kelly dashes up, as if anticipating the need for some conflict resolution between Lillian and Kara. She slips an arm around Alex and looks at her, as if proud of how she’s taking charge of the whole situation. 

All in all, Kelly has been a good influence on Alex. Kara can see changes in her sister and a budding happiness that makes her smile a bit dimly—as much as she can when the world is literally falling apart.

“We should talk before we set out,” Kelly proposes, side-eyeing Lillian and then clearing her throat. 

“Oh goodie, allow me to go first,” Lillian offers, poking her fingers into Kara’s chest violently. It’s ironic, given the first words out of her mouth are: “When all of this is said and done, keep your hands off my daughter, do you understand me? I don’t care that for all intents and purposes, we’re on the same side now. Where our _personal_ relationships come under consideration, you’re still my mortal enemy. You’re not good enough for Lena and you _never_ will be. You lied, you treated her like dirt, and I won’t allow you to—“

“Lillian.” Kelly coughs, as if to gently signal to Lillian that this isn’t a productive way of sharing emotion. 

Kara jiggles where she stands, not able to face the truths that Lillian is flinging into her face. She already knows what she did and doesn’t need this refresher. 

“To be fair, you also treated Lena in ways you aren’t proud of,” Alex interjects, calling Lillian out on her hypocrisy before a full-blown argument can develop. “Every one of us has screwed up, okay? Kelly is never going to have to worry about job security at this rate, because we’re all going to keep her very busy until she’s ready to retire.”

Kelly slings her arm tighter around Alex and arches an eyebrow at her. “I hope it doesn’t take _that long_ for everyone to recover from all of this.”

Kara thinks it might take even longer, especially because Nia and Brainy are still occasionally glancing her way, as if they expect something wildly unpredictable to happen again—like a man walking out of the sky, Lena betraying them at random, or their invincible superhero best friend suddenly dropping. 

They’re all a little traumatized by the idea of Kara dying, even though the situation had turned out to be a clever scheme on Lena’s part.

There’s no telling what Leviathan will do next, but they’re all afraid and thinking about death. 

“Oh, please, we’ll be lucky if any of us make it to retirement, and I’m _almost_ old enough to cash in on social security,” Lillian bites out angrily, eyes flashing as she keeps her attention on Kara. “You all should know something about Lionel. He’s a master strategist, and if he’s already declared a victory, then he has damn good reason to. We don’t have any more time to wait around—”

J’onn appears by the roof elevator and holds out a map to Lillian. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks.

It’s clear he’s been talking to Lillian and she’s already discussed Lionel’s possible location with him.

“Thank you,” Lillian mutters and unfurls the map so she can point out a location in Northern California. “Lionel mentioned this place to me a few times. He always called it the Eye of the Universe. Lena will be there with him. She has to be.”

Lena wakes up bathed in sunlight and hisses in pain. She touches a bruised spot on her chest and calls out Kara’s name before she can think better of it. 

“Kara,” Lena instinctively cries again, because that soft wail has been inside of her ever since her father hauled her off. 

Although physical distance should mean nothing in the virtual reality, she can’t seem to force National City to re-materialize around her. 

Through the window, she can see towering redwoods and forest paths. Her current location is an unknown, but Lena can be certain she’s nowhere near home. 

They might still be in California, or even in Oregon, but in either case it’s a secluded area where Kara won’t have an easy time of finding her.

As she sits upright in bed, Lena suddenly realizes that she’s been tucked in under a thick quilt that her biological mother knitted ages ago. 

The quilt reminds Lena of rainy afternoons in the small town where she was born. She would walk along muddy paths and over a stone bridge, always hand-in-hand with her mother, who would clutch a big umbrella and sing softly in Irish Gaelic. Once inside their cottage, her mother would drape the quilt around Lena’s shoulders and give her a steaming cup of warm milk with homemade jam biscuits. 

Lena runs her fingers along all of the seams that connect the dark emerald green patches. 

The last she saw this quilt, it was before a long overseas plane ride, which took her from Dublin to New York, and then on to California. She doesn’t remember much of what happened after their transatlantic move, except that she and her mother lived in a small apartment that was far less charming than their previous home, and that they spent weeks visiting with her mother’s friends in different parts of the state. Shortly after the move, her mother died. 

It occurs to Lena that she needs to get up now. She needs to do whatever it takes to get away from her father. At the same time, she feels sluggish and unable to go anywhere. The experience is almost like suffering from sleep paralysis, but she fights through the fatigue and shoves the quilt aside. 

Bitter tears come to her eyes as she sees the way her father arranged the bedroom for her use. 

The elegant canopy above her head is the first thing to catch her attention and she immediately tears it down. She knocks over every single one of the crystal perfume bottles on the vanity. 

There’s a pretty wooden jewelry box on the night table that she lifts up and breaks.

“That belonged to your mother,” Lionel solemnly tells her from where he waits in the doorway. He walks over and bends to pick up a little claddagh ring. 

Gently taking her by the wrist, Lionel fits the ring onto Lena’s right hand. “She wore this when I first met her. If you wear it on your right hand — like this, with the heart turned out, it means you are receptive to love.”

Lena wants to rip the ring off her finger and fling it, but she’s too busy staring at the sapphire heart and thinking of her mother. 

_How desperate and lonesome must her mother have been to fall in love with a married man who_ lied _to her? How unconvinced of her own self-worth?_

Lena settles for transferring the ring to her left hand and Lionel laughs at that. 

“I’m not receptive,” Lena quietly spits. 

“Truer words have never been spoken — but by putting the ring on that finger and turning it the other way around, you’re telling everyone that you’re _married._ ” Lionel smiles at her mistake, the same way he often did when she was young and made a silly error. He returns the ring to her right hand, showing her how to wear it to reflect her closed-off nature. 

Lena tries to imagine her mother wearing the ring. She tries to remember her mother’s face in general, but it’s been so long that there’s only a few things that she can recreate in her mind — the gentle black curls of her short hair, the bright red lipstick that contrasted so sharply with her pale skin, and the dusting of tiny freckles over her nose. 

It leaves Lena choked up, and she recognizes all of her father’s attempts to manipulate her for what they are — the keepsakes and the gifts are all distractions from what he’s done to her. 

“I’ve been in far too many situations like this one not to have some idea of what you’re doing,” Lena warns sibilantly. 

“And what am I doing, Lena, except trying to make you happier than you ever were in back in National City?” Lionel asks. He guides her down the hallway, directing her by the arm without gripping too firmly. 

It’s obvious that she’s not just going to be able to walk out of Lionel’s stately home. She’s humoring him now, putting on an act rather than being outright confrontational in the hopes of getting more information out of him. It’s going to take some tactical planning on her part to escape, some trial and error with her father and her own algorithm to figure out a way back to National City.

Lionel isn’t that physically different from the way Lena remembered him to be, but he’s at the same time unfamiliar. She doesn’t know him at all, and she doesn’t care to know him. 

In a very unhealthy way, Lena would prefer to continue thinking of her father as dead, because this phantom who’s now digging his fingers into her elbow can’t be the same person. 

Lionel motions to the parlor ahead of them and holds the door open for Lena. She’s so preoccupied that she steps inside and gasps at what she sees. 

Her mother is seated at a card table, and she stands up as Lena halts. 

Verging on a panic attack, Lena backs out of the room. She tries to force the air in and out of her body until she gets her bearings, but her breath sticks in her throat and doesn’t quite get to her lungs.

“Mother?” Lena softly asks, voice shattering. She’s not thinking and blurts out pained accusations. “You… you’re alive. You made me believe you were dead. How could you — how could you do that? How could you just leave me to think the worst had happened to you — to suffer, _every single day?_ I carry around the horrible burden of witnessing your death and doing nothing to stop it. I blame myself —“

“She’s a simulation,” Lionel hums in her ear and then Lena’s beautiful mother disappears before her eyes again. “I thought you would like to have her. She might just be written into the algorithm, but the simulation knows her full life story. Wouldn’t you like to know it?”

Lena goes perfectly rigid. She would like to know more about her mother, but her father's ‘gift’ makes her angry. It makes her feel too vulnerable, the way he’s intentionally sprung it on her.

She’s suddenly envisioning her hands wrapped around her father’s neck as she chokes him to death. 

It’s a brutal mental image, one that frightens Lena so much she steps against the wall and shuts her eyes.

She imagines Kara’s strong arms around her shoulders, and her voice whispering reassurances about who she is as a person. It’s been a long time since Lena used this tactic to calm herself. It’s not that effective, because she doesn’t know who she is anymore—or how far she would go. She would like to think she’s going to make the right decisions, that deep down she knows better than Kara about what’s right and what’s wrong, _at least for her,_ but there’s also Lex’s voice in her head telling her she’s a Luthor. 

Still, Lena won’t be ruled by her anger. She stares placidly ahead and says nothing, tries to feel nothing as Lionel attacks all of her weaknesses.

“Just think of what you can have here, Lena,” Lionel intones. “All of the people you love around you. It would be safe. No surprises, no betrayals, no one to hurt you ever again. You would have complete control.” He places both hands on her shoulders and moves her into the parlor, where he forces her down into a chair. “I can give that to you.”

The description appeals to her rational side. Her emotional side instantly rejects it — the part of her that still has genuine feelings for Kara, all else be damned. 

Lena plays with the new ring on her finger, and thinks that for all of the complaining she did earlier, that ring _does_ belong on the other hand — not to show that she’s married, but to convey that she’s not interested in anyone else. 

Even if Lena can never fully forgive, she will _always_ love Kara.

_Even if their relationship remains broken forever._

She mentally tries to gather up all of the shards, the shattered trust, and does all she can to cut herself with them. _To hurt._ Because the alternative is too safe, and not what she wants, not anymore.

The virtual reality was supposed to help her to escape, and more than anything, to cope. In part, it was supposed to help her figure out the best way to confront Kara —and to choose the paths that would leave their friendship the most intact. She had wanted a completely foolproof method of dealing with her own emotions without anyone getting hurt. But even screaming and yelling and crying in front of Kara would be better than what she has now. 

If Lena has to go through all of that, she will. 

Lena attempts to stand up abruptly, but Lionel is still holding her down, his hands tight around hers. 

“Leviathan requires very little from you. And I think over time, you’ll become more interested in the personal uses of your technology,” Lionel says in a way that sounds comforting. “You may need some convincing at first, but you are going to have a whole new life here. You can explore every path not taken. Not just with your mother. Maybe you want to see Jack again, and that mentor who meant so much to you in college. You can have everyone back, including all of your friends. This is the only way they can ever truly trust and love you. Contrary to what you say about not being receptive, I know how desperately you want to be loved, Lena.”

That strikes a chord so painful inside of her that she vibrates from it. 

“And you don’t think anyone will ever love me for real?” Lena softly cries out. 

She stands up and forcefully rips herself away from her father, then tries to run — down the hall, and in the direction of what she hopes will be an exit. 

The hall shifts around her, the pictures on the wall changing, and the whole place moves around her like a blender, shredding her up into a blur of color. She has no way of knowing what she’s running towards, but she knows well what’s behind her. 

It’s a strange landscape Lena finds herself in when the room finally stops turning. There are pale dunes all around and scraggly trees beneath a red sun. 

Children are playing close by, tossing a ball to each other and running through the sand. 

One girl is sitting in the branches of a tree, calling out to them. 

Lena glances down at the long white robe she’s wearing, and her hair is different, partially up in curls and also flowing down her back. 

Being here is comforting, and she feels almost as safe as she used to feel in Kara’s arms. 

Lena wonders if she’s conjured up a simulation of Krypton, or if this is just a strange malfunction of the algorithm, brought on by her intense emotions.

On the bright side, it means that she has managed to put mental distance between herself and her father. _A whole lot of distance._

If Lionel had his way, Lena has no doubt she would be re-visiting painful memories right now, or perpetually trapped inside the house where she woke up. 

The one downfall is that Lena has no idea where to go from here, or if she re-gain any control over her algorithm, and actively use it to change the world around her. 

There’s a failsafe she’s written into the code, but it hasn’t activated yet and there’s always the possibility that her father is overriding it. 

Lena doesn’t get the opportunity to consider her next move for too long.

The girl in the tree scrambles down. She approaches confidently and shades her eyes as she smiles up at Lena. 

It’s awkward, standing there across from the child, who seems perfectly content to hang around her in silence, and play with a long leafy branch she’s ripped from the tree.

Lena clears her throat. “I’m Lena. May I ask your name?” 

“I’m Kiera,” the girl says, looking strikingly like Kara with her bangs and sweet face shape, although she has auburn hair and a different nose. She smiles a bit goofily and sways on one foot. 

Kiera is clearly no one that Lena knows — someone with zero influence on her. That is an advantage, because Lena is less likely to get sidetracked under these circumstances. 

“My middle name is Kieran.” Lena announces as she assesses the girl. “That’s obviously how you got your name. My algorithm must have made you.” She rationalizes it out loud to herself, even though the child stares blankly back at her. 

Surely, Lena’s own emotional state has put her in this safe place, far away from all of the emotional burdens of earth. The algorithm has to be working with her now instead of against her. The child is far too similar to Kara for any of this to be a random sequence of events. 

“An algorithm?” Kiera asks, raising her eyebrows as if Lena has just said a bunch of gibberish. “How?” 

Although Lena has a soft spot in her heart for children, she doesn’t always communicate with them well.

“Well, you’re most likely a circular convolution. You start with two vectors—one with my details and one with Kara’s—and you multiply them together.” Lena’s brows tighten as the girl continues to stare up at her in confusion. ”Don’t your parents teach you math? If you’re not part of my algorithm, then you must have parents. I guess either way, you could have parents—“

Lena glances at the trees behind them that have rings around their trunks and purple-black growths on them. “Where is your mother?”

“She went home with Lu. We’d better go, too.” Kiera laughs, and reaches out to take Lena’s hand, leading her off the dunes and towards a small village with homes made from odd materials. 

Lena ducks into one of the homes, following Kiera through a corridor that stretches on and on until they come to a living area.

There’s another child playing in the room, this one much younger, but with similar features, except for her bright golden-red hair and a stronger jaw line. 

No one else seems to be at home, but before Lena can complain about that fact, there’s a sound of a door unlatching and then someone is pulling her into a darkened cellar. 

This person kisses her and digs strangely callused hands into the curly hair at the nape of her neck, all while laughing warmly against her lips.

Lena’s appalled enough to slap the stranger on the arm, but then she realizes it’s not a stranger. “Kara,” she grates out. “Kara, we need to talk. Everything is an absolute mess, and you _can’t_ just kiss me like that—“

Kara proves her wrong and kisses her until Lena has to shove her back. 

It jolts Kara, and she glances around the tiny cellar in shock. She looks at Lena’s clothing, at the Zor-El crest that Lena never even realized she was wearing, and then Kara just staggers away.

“Where are we?” Kara demands, opening the cellar door and peeking out into the house. It seems to frighten her, and she moves into a corner, her back straight as a guilty blush spreads on her face. 

“It seems you know exactly where we are.” Lena quietly accuses with a scrunch of her brow, though she stays where she is and watches the panic flood through Kara until her eyes are wide and wild. “Kara?” She asks more softly. “What is this place?”

“It’s—it’s um.” Kara swallows back her clear anxiety, and after a moment of floundering begins again, “Okay first of all, please don’t get mad, and second I — I don’t even know how you got here. Two seconds ago, I was in National City, figuring out a way to come after you, and now—“

There’s footsteps in the hallway and Kara looks close to fainting as Kiera yells out, “Mom? Where’d you go?”

Kara grits her teeth together and turns back to Lena as she hastily breathes out, “ _This is personal._ Sometimes I daydream about Krypton. We’re in a small house outside of my city, like the one my Aunt Astrid lived in when I was really young, no older than three or four. I like to imagine raising a family here-“

Lena is stunned, and she raises her eyebrows as her lips form a tight line. “Of course,” she states simply. “Our brains are connected. I suppose we're somehow in a simulation based on one of your fantasies?” 

Lena is still struggling with mixed emotions, and this feels like another small lie she’s uncovered. 

“So you _do_ actually want kids,” Lena quietly concludes. In all of their past conversations, they both had taken the stance that they were too focused on their careers. “You always told me that you never really thought about it—“

Kara’s standing in front of her, vulnerable and nervous, while Kiera is still calling out “mom?”

Kiera pushes the door open and looks up at Lena expectantly, as if _she’s_ the one who has been ignoring her. “Mom,” she blurts. “We have guests. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

Lena’s eyes swing back to the girl, and she’s almost knocked over by an idea that _really_ should have occurred to her much sooner. “Hold on a minute, _these kids are ours?_ ” she practically shouts in accusation. 

It’s poor timing, because Lillian storms through the door next — throwing a dark and hard look at Kara, which only softens slightly when she turns to Lena. "I'm relieved you're alright," Lillian breathes out. "I assume you got away from Lionel?"

Lena nods a little uncertainly, giving her mother nothing more than that.

Through the open door, she can see J’onn exploring the house in wonderment, searching out possible threats. 

Brainy is with J’onn, his brow rumpled in confusion as he checks out the small interior. “Nice home,” Brainy tells Kara. “You have a very impressive collection of games. And two small humans — not quite as impressive.”

The baby is babbling incoherently on the floor and begins to wail as Alex bends to scoop her up. 

“Brainy,” Nia softly hisses, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Don’t be so rude.” 

Brainy’s face falls. He stares at the squirming child as Alex transfers her into Kelly’s arms, as if he’s trying to think of something nicer to say. “She is crying,” he states, sticking to the facts. “Very loudly. Besides, I think she requires a diaper change.”

Kara is still in shock. “Oh. You’re _all_ here.” She wheezes, like she may just die at any moment. Like this is her new Kryptonite. Her hand goes to her mouth and she utters from behind it, “ _How_ \--”

The baby is still shrieking, and Kelly looks ready to pass her back to Alex, like this a game of hot potato.

“Oh, for gods sake, give _it_ to me.” Lillian suddenly demands, and much to everyone’s shock, the baby quiets as Lillian rocks her expertly. She glares daggers at Kara and finally snaps, “Don’t just stand there gawking. Get the diaper bag.” She turns to Lena, her eyes sympathetic if judgmental as she states in exasperation, “Honestly, of all the imbeciles to give your heart to, this one had to win?”

“Lillian, why don’t I help you find the diapers while they… _discuss things_?” Kelly quickly suggests, and guides Lillian down the hall before the situation gets any more out of control. 

Lena latches her hand firmly around Kara’s wrist, and pulls Kara off to the side of the room, where she hopes they will be out of earshot.

It’s hard enough that she’s seeing the most private parts of Kara’s desires, but it’s frankly overwhelming to have everyone else also witness the extent to which Kara has indulged in this dream of building a life with her.

The situation throws all of Lena’s previous beliefs on their head, especially the notion that Kara had used her or ever saw her as a villain. But she’s not ready to grasp that she’s been loved this thoroughly, however _silently_ , by someone she’s spent months trying to see the worst in. 

It provokes a deep conflict inside of Lena that she can’t deal with when there’s so much else to process.

She blocks out the idea of children, avoids them entirely just like the figments of imagination they are, and stares at Kara until her anger overpowers her discomfort and heartache.

The silence is deafening as Kara chews her lip, and Lena sucks in a breath when she realizes she can faintly hear Lillian and Kelly in another room.

“We need to focus on getting out of here,” Lena states, ignoring how everyone else is pretending to mind their own business, instead of watching her closely and eavesdropping.

Nobody else is talking, because they don’t want to discuss the elephant in the room, and Lena isn’t sure if she’s grateful or infuriated by the way they turn a blind eye to the fantasy they’re all stuck in. She decides that she would prefer them to talk, because their silence makes it somehow worse, to be thrust into something she’s always been apart of without her knowledge. 

She feels them all focusing on the Zor-El crest on her chest, and she realizes suddenly that she’s now wearing _two_ symbols that show her heart belongs to Kara — the mark of Kara’s household and the ring that came from her mother. 

It only makes Lena even more emotionally volatile. 

She desperately wants to fix their relationship, and on the other hand, resents Kara for having such a pure idealization about sharing a life with her. 

Lena’s never felt deserving of this kind of love and she rejects it instinctively. She can’t be here, in this reality, another moment longer — not without feeling like she’s suffocating from being in the presence of all of Kara’s high expectations.

“I trust you didn’t just follow me into this reality without a way to pull back out,“ Lena says, her voice rising as her statement becomes an angry question, because Kara’s facial expression tells her all she needs to know. _Kara jumped right into this without an escape plan._

“We have some pretty good theories about how to get out,” Kara offers up in self-defense, both hands on her hips as she refuses to let Lena’s anger get to her now. She’s behaving more like Supergirl, self-assured and strong.

Lena exasperatedly spins away from Kara, fed up with everyone’s staring. She stalks back into the room where they were talking before and gestures for Kara to step inside.

“I initially thought maybe we could get out if you just rejected this reality, but you’ve been totally miserable here, and that’s obviously not the answer,” Kara explains, as she follows and closes the door behind them again. “We either need to take Lionel out, or there could be something else that you’re not dealing with that holds the key to you taking back control over your algorithm—“

“Something _I’m_ not dealing with?” Lena scoffs incredulously, and she’s fierce in how she glares at Kara. “You’re the one who has all of these repressed little fantasies that border on _delusional._ ” She regrets it the moment she says it. 

The wounded flash in Kara’s eyes resonates through the whole house, manifesting as an earthquake. Pictures fall and furniture shakes and Lena knows without any proof that her words have destroyed a little bit of light in Kara’s inner world.

Kara swallows thickly, but there’s a dullness to her eyes as she suggests, “You should talk to Brainy. He understands this stuff better than I do. Maybe he’ll have some thoughts about why we’re currently stuck in this _delusion,_ as you called it—“

Lena avoids the hurt in Kara’s voice and looks away as she tries to remain cool and collected. 

“What if this is all part of Leviathan’s master plan?” Lena considers, eyebrows twitching together as she frowns. “After everything they've already put us through, maybe they're going to try to use our deepest desires and worst fears against us—“ _Maybe Leviathan wants them to destroy each other in different ways._

“That—um, yeah, sounds plausible,” Kara agrees, looking like she’s terrified that they’re all going to spend more time in _her_ mind. 

“Well, how do we counteract that?” Lena demands, slipping her arms over her chest as her pale face reddens with the blush of impatience and aggravation.

Lionel’s plan is becoming clearer to her now. To weaken her and make her more prone to the influence of the Leviathan code—to allow her mind to become a _total host_ for the tech, her psyche is going to need to be completely broken down. 

Her father didn’t need to trap her in a house, not when the endless possibilities of the virtual world will allow her to actively explore her friends’ secret impressions, thoughts and dreams about her. 

There’s also the potential that they will be drawn into Lena’s nightmares and vulnerabilities. _That would hurt more than any other form of torture._

Lionel’s scheme is brilliant, when she really thinks about it. If he’s responsible for all of the recent events in her life, then he’s played with her complete range of emotions, shut her off from her friends, and tricked her into dabbling with villainy. 

He’s left behind a shell of a person, one that could easily be crushed with just a little more pressure from any random source.

She’s not sure she’s strong enough to survive being so emotionally exposed. 

It almost makes her wish she had perished yesterday. The idea of Lex throwing her off L-Corp’s tower is much more attractive than continuing with this horrible immersive experience.

As it turns out, thinking of Lex, his cruel taunts, and how he sizzled to death in his metal suit is exactly what Lena needs to remind herself of why she can’t just give in. 

She doesn’t want to be weak, or the type of puppet he’s always claimed she’s been. 

That means she has to work on her personal issues that could be used against all of them. She’s not prepared for any of this, least of all to deal with Kara's fantasy, but she’s going to have to try. 

“You know what, show me around,” Lena suddenly requests, looking up at Kara with what she hopes will be gentler eyes. “Tell me about this place. Tell me when you first started thinking about it and why.”


	16. Chapter 16

Kara leads the way down the hall and opens the door to a bedroom with minimalistic, clean furnishings that are all to Lena’s personal tastes, but also Kryptonian.

A smooth storage case sits at the end of a low mattress with a crisp bedspread and soft-looking pillows. 

On the bedside table there’s a tiny device, no bigger than a button, which projects a family picture onto the wall. There’s a prickly plant that Lena can’t name, and a book that is tucked in beside both of their journals. 

Lena takes in the domestic scene for a moment, hesitating in the door as she feels two strong but contradictory things at once — both strangely like an interloper, and like she is completely at home in this space. 

Kara walks in first and spares a glance over her shoulder. She’s still so soft and entreating in how she looks at Lena. Her baby blues shine as much with devotion as pain, and she turns around to try to hide it.

Lena prefers it that way, because her gut twists in despair whenever their eyes meet. Experiencing all of Kara’s hopes and wishes firsthand has only made her even more certain that their problems run deeper than mere lying and betrayal.

There’s still so much that Kara hasn’t bothered to say to her about their relationship and it makes Lena feel low. 

At the same time there’s an undercurrent of aggression between them, like they might just break the rising tension with screaming and sex. Not _good,_ affirming sex — but harmful, angry sex, the kind that ends with bruises and bite marks, and Lena feeling physically satisfied but also more than a little damaged. 

“I want to know why we’re here,” Lena asserts calmly. “I want to know what all of this means to you.” 

_What I mean to you._

Kara evasively wanders to the opposite side of the room and lifts a small trinket box. “When I was a kid and first living on earth, I used to spend most of my waking hours thinking about Krypton,” she confides. “I don’t think about it constantly anymore, but sometimes it makes me feel better.”

Opening the lid of the trinket box, Kara pulls out a crystal, a headpiece, two tiny figurines and a strange metallic puzzle game. She keeps her head down, but there’s a hint of a sad smile on her face that Lena can still see forming. 

“The first time I met you I was in awe of you, I still am, but I knew instantly that I wanted to be your friend,” Kara whispers. “It wasn’t until later that it really hit me that I had been developing feelings almost from the very start.” 

Kara’s breath hitches a little, the tendons in her neck tightening as she shares all of her secrets. 

Kara finally looks up, directly at Lena, and reminisces softly, “Do you remember when you filled my office with flowers? I came to see you and you called me your hero—not just Supergirl, but me, Kara. That was when all of the feelings that had been inside of me every time I thought of you just aligned perfectly. I didn’t need a cape, or to fly, or to always act tough. I just had to be me, and that was enough. I was already falling in love with you then.”

Kara moves to sit on the bed and pulls the silver pieces of the puzzle apart, arranging them in a different configuration. The metal shifts like mercury, not a solid but more of a liquid in Kara’s hand. 

“But I spent a lot of time denying my feelings for you,” Kara softly confesses. “Breaking them down, like this puzzle, really doing all I could to avoid seeing the bigger picture. Every time a piece slotted into place, I pulled it right back out again.” 

Lena’s on the verge of going to Kara, but she holds back, clutching at her own hands nervously.

“It was around the time that we were dealing with Reign that I began to imagine you here with me,” Kara divulges. “We had all of those conversations about Ruby, and Alex realized that she wants kids. I guess I started thinking about it then, too.”

The puzzle comes together in the shape of an animal before Kara begins switching around the pieces again. 

Lena watches Kara’s progress with it, and listens as the puzzle of their relationship slowly begins to make more sense.

“I originally imagined adopting a kid and raising her somewhere safe,” Kara explains. “But then one day, we were having lunch and there was this baby smiling and laughing at you. I just remember thinking my heart would melt, because you lit up like all of the stars in the sky, and waved, and cooed back, and your smile, Rao. It was so radiant, and I thought — she’s gonna be such an amazing mom one day. Then I couldn’t get it out of my head, and — _well_ —you can see the rest.”

Lena inhales sharply as she glances around and tries to loosen from her stern and unyielding posture. Getting some perspective on Kara’s fantasy changes how she feels about it. It leeches some of her resentment away, although there are other poisonous emotions inside of her that remain.

She wants to bare all of her own feelings to Kara in return, but her self-doubt chokes her, and she settles for sitting on the bed. For _physical closeness,_ in lieu of emotional closeness. 

“I never would have guessed that you had such elaborate fantasies centered around us,” Lena says in a scratchy, low voice. “I shouldn’t have called this a _delusion._ I was just in shock.”

Her words are too quietly spoken and even a little empty sounding to her own ear. She’s genuinely remorseful for hurting Kara, but it’s hard to convey that when she’s also trying to stay strong for her own sake. 

“I don’t like to dream too much,” Lena candidly admits. The words crack in her throat and it’s almost like chewing on glass when she speaks. “The things I’ve always wanted the most are the things I like to think about the least. I tuck them away inside of myself. Like a collection of fragile things, so they don’t shatter.” 

She’s had plenty of sexual fantasies about Kara, but she’s never allowed herself to get preoccupied with thoughts of dating her. Loving her, sleeping with her, _yes_ – but a longer term commitment, _no._

Not only had she convinced herself many times that a relationship between them would be impossible, Lena had also been foolish enough to date someone who she could never love the same way — who in fact didn’t fulfill her at all.

“To be honest, I thought if we ever slept together, it would end up being one of those things where we avoided each other for a little while and went back to pretending like nothing happened,” Lena discloses. “Even after you recently confessed your feelings to me, I thought that was as far as this would ever go.” She hopes that she won’t come to regret this level of honesty, but she realizes that she wants to share these hard truths with Kara. 

“Before that, I never felt good enough for you, so when you pushed me towards someone else, I thought that was your way of confirming it for me,” Lena softly finishes. “That I could _never_ be what you wanted. Half of the time, when you were busy saving the world, or just not around, I thought — _I thought_ that maybe you didn’t even need the friendship as badly as I did.”

Kara frowns with her eyebrows pulled down in that deeply pained and sympathetic expression that always gets to Lena. “That’s not true. I need you. I _really_ need you in my life. I put my sense of duty above you so many times without realizing how much the choices I made were affecting you.”

With a crinkle forming on her forehead, Kara seems to be reasoning through her own actions. “Actually, I _did_ realize it.” She sags in guilt. “I deliberately avoided seeing you from time to time, because I didn’t know how to process all of these desires I felt towards you. I didn’t want to put the puzzle of my emotions together because it meant I would have to change, and change is hard. So I pushed you away, right into the arms of a person I hoped could make you happy.” She drops her chin and gazes down at her hands, wringing them as she hisses in a breath. 

“It was so hard watching you with someone else,” Kara whispers. “I know I encouraged it, but deep down I didn’t want it. I’m in love with you, Lena, which you already knew—but my love for you has been all wrong. I’ve loved you in a really selfish way. When I needed you, I came and found you. When you needed me, I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I hurt you and that I didn’t step up sooner. I’m truly sorry and I can’t say it enough. All of my apologies in this world have sucked. I keep making things worse between us instead of better, but I’m not giving in. _I have to get it right._ ”

Kara has a determined fervor about her, even as her chin trembles and tears spring to her eyes. “I want to be worthy of your trust again. Even if we can never be together, I just want you to be able to look at me and see someone who will protect you and do anything for you. I never wanted to be the one who caused you so much pain.” 

“There are times when I should have put you first, but I let everyone and everything else come before you,” Kara continues. “That was such a mistake. While I was lying to you, I was also lying to myself. I lived entirely through my fantasies and I wish I’d had the courage to make them real. Because you need something real and substantial in your life. I have to let go of these ridiculous daydreams—” 

Lena tries to keep her mask up, but the quietest whimper breaks free from the back of her throat as Kara comes in for a hug. Her resolve to stay strong is crumbling. Above all else—even her own dignity—she wants Kara’s arms around her.

It’s maddening how much she needs this—how easy it is for Kara to break down her defenses and reach all of the most vulnerable places inside of her. 

“Your dreams aren’t ridiculous and I didn’t mean to shatter them,” Lena cries, clinging to Kara as her shoulders tremble and their bodies fit together better than the puzzle pieces. “I just don’t understand how I could ever be part of your dream. I don’t think I could meet your expectations. You deserve someone who’s the opposite of me. Someone with a good name, whose reputation won’t drag you down — someone who is nurturing and kind, not someone who can be cold and harsh.”

Her own self-loathing is skyrocketing faster than a Kryptonian flying at top speed. 

She’s sick to her stomach from it, and a tiny voice inside questions what _she deserves._

_More of the same? A string of one night-stands, long days of misery and loneliness? Who could ever love Lena Luthor?_

“Lena, you’re not just part of my dream—you _are_ the dream,” Kara breathes out, holding back her own tears as she moves away, far enough so she can gaze into Lena’s unfocused eyes. “You’re the one I want to be with and I don’t care about your name or what anyone else thinks of you. You are the most gentle, loving person I’ve ever met. I know who you are, and it isn’t in your nature to be cruel. Sometimes you let anger and hurt get to you—but you have _reasons_ , and that happens to _everyone._ ”

Lena opens her mouth but shuts it again because there’s a sob inside of her waiting to be free. She runs her thumbs under her eyes, catching all of the tears as they fall. “I’m not _this,_ Kara,” she quietly argues through clenched teeth and glances down at the crest on her clothing. “It feels wrong to be wearing it.”

Kara boldly reaches out and traces the symbol over Lena’s chest, only moving her hand away when she comes to a place she’s too shy to touch. “My crest has a different meaning on earth than it did on Krypton,” she says, working her jaw into a tighter frown. “On earth my cousin and I are heroes, but on our home planet, we’re the children of leaders whose terrible choices led to the destruction of our civilization. If our people were alive today, everyone would despise me. When it comes down to it, I’m really the same as you, Lena. I try to do as much good as possible, because I have this chance—this life—and I don’t want to mess it up. I want to be worthy of the gift I’ve been given and use each day to its fullest.”

“You do, you always do,” Lena brokenly assures Kara, and awful feelings take hold in her: an extreme fear of this relationship with Kara, and so much pain, grief and sorrow that she has to set her teeth together to stop herself from screaming aloud. 

Her sorrow has a quick and devastating effect on her — like a fire it clears out every weed of bitterness in her heart, but also any hope for new growth. She’s no longer angry, but what she feels is pure anguish and emptiness inside.

Kara cups her cheek and prevents Lena from immediately getting lost in these all-consuming emotions.

“Not always,” Kara is firmly stating. “I don’t always use each day to the fullest. Lena, I wasted so many days with you when I could have just been honest. I continuously failed you. Not just in the virtual world, but out in the real world, too. I’m so sorry.”

Lena slides her arms around Kara’s back and leans into her heavily, and with a gentle shifting around, they lie down in the bed together. “I’m sorry, too,” she sniffles. “If I could change what happened, I would. I really do forgive you, Kara. This time, I mean it. I’m still hurting, but a lot of that hurt isn’t your fault. In the last few years, you’ve been the best thing in my life. If I had spoken to you like we’ve always done, instead of trying to avoid a fight, then maybe we would be in a better place right now. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

Lena is willing to take steps that will help her to trust _anyone_ again, because otherwise there’s going to be no future for her, and certainly no possibility of a future with Kara. She has to deal with this lifetime of accumulated pain. It’s all drowning her at once, and somehow Kara’s love and care only seems to be sinking her faster into it.

Lena is sure there will be nothing left of her now. She’s hiccuping as she cries and has no strength left to find her composure. 

In Kara’s comforting arms, she’s tiny and pathetic, and unrecognizable to herself. 

Kara cries too and kisses her forehead, sniffing quietly as she rocks Lena. She stretches her arm out and tucks a blanket around them both, doing all that she can to soothe her, but Lena is completely inconsolable. 

Lena’s never been at this point with anyone before. She’s never felt so strongly about someone, and has never overcome anything like what she’s experienced with Kara. 

It takes so much out of her that Lena can’t move or speak or feel. Kara’s arms tighten around her shoulders, but Lena’s heart is in her stomach and her body seems simultaneously heavy and light — and like she’s not quite present within it. She goes limp, hands falling away from where she’s clutching desperately to Kara. 

Lena makes a noise—a quiet, strangled noise that does nothing to convey to Kara that she’s slipping into an abyss and powerless to stop it. 

She just stares up at the ceiling, unable to see from the tears that blur her vision and her constant shuddering.

This is what it takes to break her— not anger, hurt, sadness, rage — but _love._ Love, which makes her feel too much, which capsizes her entirely just when she thinks she might be safe. 

A little while later, there’s a knock at the door that sounds far off — an echo that bounces around in Lena’s mind. She’s under the surface of her emotions now and floating somewhere face down in numbness.

Lena hardly moves at all when Kara sits upright and turns to look at Alex.

“I made dinner because we’re all starving, and virtual world or not we still need to eat, apparently.” Alex squints as if she doesn’t quite understand how it works, and shrugs as she motions for them to follow her.

Lena can only blink vacantly as she stands up and wanders down the hall with Kara. 

The sound of everyone’s whispers fill the hallway — a faint and haunting noise in her ear that gets suddenly too loud and then soft again.

“What did you make?” Kara asks conversationally, but she’s gazing at Lena with a worried scrunch of her eyebrows, then she shares a look with Alex.

“I – uh — found waffles and pot stickers in the freezer. If anything screams we’re inside your mind I guess it’s that.” Alex jokes, and escorts them into the dining room where Lillian is already sitting at the head of the table.

Lillian glares at Kara, but her face softens as she sees Lena behind her. 

Kara takes her place at the other end of the table, and Lena sits quietly next to her and across from J’onn.

“Where’s— _um,_ ” Kara swings her head around, her eyebrows pinching together as she fumbles for the right words.

J’onn jumps in before she has a chance to make things more awkward and supplies evenly, “Everyone else is in the living room eating.”

Brainy and Kelly have been relegated to babysitters, and Kara shifts uneasily in her seat as she nods. “Right, great, well, let’s — let’s eat, and then we can—”

“Sit around and have a family game night?” Lillian cuts in with a slow, sinister smile that says she’s already thought of killing Kara at least a dozen times already. “Indulge your mental illness some more?”

Kara tenses and sputters out, “I was going to say brainstorm ways to get out of here.”

Lillian sniffs haughtily and spears a pot sticker in distaste. “From the way you spent the afternoon cozying up to my daughter, I’m surprised you don’t want to stay a while. Get into her good graces again, so you can go right back to stringing her along—“

Lena places her napkin in her lap and ignores the argument entirely. Her odd behavior draws everyone’s attention. 

It must be like staring at a place where a bomb has leveled the ground, because Lena feels like some vital part of her has been completely demolished. She grabs for a waffle and drops it on her plate, even though she doesn’t want it. _She doesn’t want anything._

Nia takes it upon herself to put more food on Lena’s plate and nervously glances from Lillian to Kara. “Hey, these waffles kind of remind me of the ones from Noonan’s,” she chuckles. “Why don’t you have another, Lillian? I don’t know how calories work in here but I’m pretty sure we can eat as many waffles as we want without any consequences. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” 

Lillian appears to have a soft spot for Nia and accepts the extra waffle without complaint. 

“So what makes you think you deserve my daughter?” Lillian lilts out, well after everyone has returned to eating quietly. She’s glaring at Kara, her jaw as sharp as a broken glacier. “What gives you the right to dream of having a family with her?“

Alex coughs loudly and deliberately scrapes her chair against the floor. “Maybe we shouldn’t interfere in their relationship right now,” she suggests. “I learned that the hard way. We can offer help when and if Lena and Kara ask for it—”

“Oh please, Lena will never ask any of you for help again,” Lillian bites out, glancing at Lena long enough to become alarmed by her wide, empty eyes. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Lillian blurts.

Lena doesn’t respond or look up from where she’s gazing at the red table cloth. She’s in a state of total dissociation.

It only passes when the room begins to spin around her. 

Suddenly she’s not sitting at the same table anymore.

Her legs are too short to touch the floor and there are adults whispering about _family._

She’s in a place of limbo, in temporary foster care, where she’s not part of anyone’s family, and she’s only just beginning to understand that she may never be. 

Her hair isn’t combed today, and no one tucks her into bed at night, either. 

No one whispers _I love you,_ or reads the bedtime stories that Lena likes – not _The Velveteen Rabbit,_ or _The Little Prince._

This house is different, right down to the very smells that pervade it, and Lena wonders how long she will have to stay here. 

She should be eating the cold macaroni and cheese dinner in front of her, but instead she’s thinking about _the water._

For a little while, she tries to stop breathing, but her little cheeks always puff out and then she sucks more air in greedily. She understands that her mother is dead—that she stopped breathing in the lake—but Lena wants to know the sensation of that in her own body. 

At age four going on five, she has already memorized all of the elements on the periodic table, and even carried out her own little experiments, but grief is something she can’t understand the same way. She’s still experimenting with it. 

To her, it’s a pair of soggy shoes and five hours of standing out in the cold on the misty shores of a lake. A deadened feeling in her fingers and toes as her mother’s friends come to find her. Stillness and surrender—a complete lack of fight as she’s carried off and taken away from her mother forever.

There’s a paradox she can’t work through in her child’s brain, and not even as an adult: she wants to believe that her mother loved her, but if that was the case, then why couldn’t Lena save her? Why wasn’t she enough of a reason to come back to the rocky shore? 

Lena returns to the same conclusion again and again: that she’s a reminder of something painful to her mother. 

Her mother had sometimes looked at her and cried, the same way Lena always cried harder after looking at a scrape on her knee. If her mother wanted to escape her, then it was the least Lena could do to let her make that choice. 

Lena can hear the adults in the household speaking about her, muttering about a family that might have taken in her in, and calling her _unwanted._

_She is not a loved child._

Love is something that Lena desperately craves, but when anyone says they love her from now on, she will always think of her experiences with her mother. 

_She will always think of herself as a scraped knee._

Lena pokes at the food on her plate and continues to listen to the voices in the other room.

The table in front of her belongs to the Smyths, and the parents of the household are chatting quietly about Lena’s mother, using words like _absolute disgrace_ , and _shame._ Words that Lena will hold onto until one day when she understands them on a more personal level—when she finally applies them to how she feels about her own role in her mother’s death. 

There’s a quiet creak of a door as Lionel steps into the dining room. 

He comes to bend next to her, takes her tiny hand in his and offers her a smile. “Lena,” he softly tells her, “I’ve come to take you to a new home.”

It’s strange, this memory, because Lena isn’t expecting him to appear. 

This feels like the first time she’s seen her father: a man who is tall, in a suit, and has a shine on his head where he’s lost his hair. 

Lena clasps his hand trustingly. She lifts her face curiously towards him, as if she hasn’t ever gone through this with him before. “You have?” she asks, her voice light with hope. “You’re taking me home?”

She frees her small hand from his and touches the white table cloth in front of her, which should still be _red_ — red like the table cloth in Kara’s fantasy, and like so many of the sweaters that Kara wears. 

_Home._

“Kara,” she mutters, and the table cloth becomes a hospital sheet in Lena’s hands, crinkly and cool. 

_Home. She wants to go home. With Kara._

It’s disorienting to watch the fabric change, and her emotions change along with it. 

_Where is she and what’s happening to her?_

She doesn’t recognize the hospital that materializes around her, but she instinctively knows she’s been in this place before and that this is another memory. 

It’s frightening to be here. She’s almost as frightened as she was right after her mother died, but Lena doesn’t know why she’s so afraid.

Lionel’s with her still, and he’s bending, removing her small sneakers before lifting her onto a hospital bed.

“Why are we here?” Lena asks as she whips her head around to take in all of the strange machinery around her.

As soon as she settles, she’s able to concentrate again, and Lena can see that she’s wearing Zor-El robes instead of a hospital gown. She’s an adult, but she still feels as vulnerable as a child as her father steps closer to her bedside.

“You are going to shut your eyes for me, Lena, just for a little while,” Lionel explains and then there’s a sharp pinch in her arm as he pushes a tube into one of Lena’s veins. “It will be alright when you wake up, sweetheart. Be still and rest.” 

Lionel lowers a mask over her face, and though she puts out her hand to stop him, Lena inhales at the same time and grows too woozy to resist sleep. 

She shuts her eyes, and drifts into a void where she’s capable of feeling nothing. 

For Kara, time flows differently in this moment. She’s sitting at the table one second, and the next she’s in a stuffy-looking home office that belongs to Lillian Luthor. 

All of her friends are in the office, confused but unharmed by the shift in scenery. 

“This is like the wildest dream ever,” Nia announces, seeming less daunted than before as the the virtual world rapidly changes around them. “Obviously it’s not a dream, but it’s definitely an experience—“

“Maybe we should try treating it the way you would a dream,” Kelly considers aloud, the idea coming on slow at first until she rushes to get out: “I help patients all of the time with lucid nightmares. What if this is like a lucid nightmare? I can give Lena some tips for coping with it. Nia, you can help—”

Everyone seems intent on brainstorming around her, but Kara has a foreboding feeling. From the way Lillian stares back at her, she determines quickly that they both have the same concerns. 

“ _Where is Lena_?” Kara asks first, shooting up from her chair and toppling it in the process. 

“Stop,” Lillian warns, throwing out a hand and catching Kara by the wrist. “We’re in my mind now.”

Alex steps closer to Lillian’s desk and takes note of the calendar, shifting it around until Kara can see they are more than twenty years in the past. “We’re in one of your memories?” she asks.

“ _Not quite._ I still have wrinkles,” Lillian gripes, arching an eyebrow as she takes in the sight of her own face in the polished shine of her desk. She stands and moves towards the window, cracking it open as she searches the driveway. “Lena will be upstairs in her bedroom.” 

Kara can’t pinpoint the reasons she feels so defensive all of the sudden, but she wants to fly across the room and force Lillian to give her answers about what they are doing here. 

It’s not that Kara would prefer to take everyone on a longer tour of her own mind, but she would endure any discomfort to help Lena. 

Foolish though it might be, Kara believes she can shelter Lena if she just tries hard enough and focuses all of her mental energies on it. It doesn’t matter what toll it takes on her, as long as Lena is unscathed when all of this ends.

Kara’s quaking with energy and the need to protect the woman she loves. “Why are we here?” she snaps. “Lena doesn’t have happy memories of her childhood.” 

“I don’t know,” Lillian grates out, but there seems to be a specific reason for her nervousness, something that she’s hiding. “I just know it’s my fault. When Lena first came to live with us, she was a reserved child—traumatized by witnessing her mother’s death, but she still knew how to laugh with Lex. She _was_ resilient.”

Kara’s about to start off towards the door, but then she stops. She wants to get some insights from Lillian, otherwise she might not be able to figure out what led them here.

“So what changed?” Alex pipes up, approaching Lillian and leaning against the edge of the desk. “I mean, I’m just assuming that’s what happened. Maybe you need to talk to Lena about the past? We could each try to work on our respective issues with Lena, although from the way she behaved at dinner, I’m not sure how much her conversation with Kara _actually_ helped—“

Kara slouches and places a hand on the back of her neck. She honestly believed that she had a productive conversation with Lena, but maybe it hadn’t helped her as much as it helped Kara. 

“It seemed like we made real progress, but then Lena just shut down on me,” Kara defeatedly admits. “I don’t understand what I did.” 

Her self-blame feels like standing in the shade when she’s in need of light from the sun. It’s a bone-aching and tiring sensation, like Kara will never have energy again. 

Lillian frowns severely and moves towards the door, crossing her arms and hesitating when she reaches it. “I can try to talk to Lena, but I think we’re feeding right into Lionel’s plan, although I don’t have the foresight to know what that is yet,” she huffs. “All I know is that this was a _very_ vulnerable time in Lena’s life.” 

Opening the door with a soft creak, Lillian proceeds out of the room, and Kara glances around at everyone before following.

Lillian comes to the bottom of a long polished staircase and ascends it with light footfalls.

Kara follows her up the stairs and towards a bedroom. As they both peek inside, they see Lena—still with a hollow look about her, curled up on top of a pink and white bedspread.

Lillian puts out a hand and grabs Kara by the back of her cape. 

“Lena didn’t speak for two weeks,” Lillian announces abruptly. 

“What?” Kara asks, with a squint of her eyes and tilt of her head. “What are you talking about?”

“When she was five years old, there was a two week period where she hardly ate or left her bedroom,” Lillian divulges in a hurry. There’s an array of emotions on her face that Kara’s never seen there before: sadness and contrition in equal measure. “During that time, Lena didn’t follow Lex around, or read any of her books. She didn’t giggle and bother me the way she usually did. I thought she was sick, or that I had hurt her feelings. I never figured out what was wrong with her. Finally, one day I screamed at her. I made her get out of bed and rejoin the world—” 

Kara slams her eyes shut as a wave of outrage hits her. “You thought that was the best way to handle it?” she shouts. “She was a child! She needed you to be her new mom, not some angry force to be reckoned with!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Lillian asks in bitterness and self-disgust. “I regretted screaming at Lena the moment it happened. It frightened me to see her like that. _I wanted her back._ I wanted a reaction from her to show me she was still in there, even if it meant she hated me! I think we're in a memory of that awful time-"

Whipping around, Kara sets her eyes on Lena and decides that she’s at the limit for what she will tolerate from the virtual world. She wants a confrontation now, to punish whoever is responsible for keeping Lena ensnared in her pain. 

Lena is nestled up in her bed, looking so small and despondent that Kara can’t stand it anymore. 

“What should I do?” Lillian asks weakly. “Should I try _talking_ to her?”

“No,” Kara seethes through gritted teeth, her eyes glowing with white hot fury. “No, all of this must be a distraction. It’s a way to keep us busy while Leviathan’s influence is growing stronger. We’re already losing Lena. We need to fight, and we need to get the hell out of here. _Now._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda want to quit writing this and delete it. Let me know your thoughts, if you want. Thanks.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: There's some upsetting stuff from Lena's childhood in this chapter - not too heavy or dark by my standards, but it might be difficult for certain readers. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue and said they'd be interested in reading more. I really would have shoved it aside for now (and maybe forever) had it not been for you.

Lena’s experience of the virtual world is becoming more and more disorienting by the second. It’s almost like being waterboarded. 

She no sooner takes a deep breath and gets her bearings than her head is pushed down deep into the mop bucket of memory, and she’s inhaling some dirt of yesterday. Choking, sputtering, she inhales confusing images of her relationship with her father and a betrayal she doesn’t fully understand yet. 

“I don’t want to,” Lena refuses, pouting out her bottom lip, and then adjusting tactics by giving Lex a well-practiced and glacial look.  
She’s perfected it after seeing Lillian do it so many times when denying Lionel’s requests. At age seven and a half, however, with two missing front teeth, Lena’s far less menacing, even if she does stare up from under her dark eyebrows in the same way, both calculating and precociously coy. 

“I’d rather stay home and read,” Lena softly argues, tightening her grip on a worn copy of _The Secret Garden._

“Nice try, Lena, but you’re going,” Lex insists. He pries the book out of her hand, then steers her towards the front door and out into the frozen night.

It’s a rare occasion that their family is all together in the same vehicle, going to the same event. Their driver Henry is already seated at the wheel and Lionel stands waiting on the children. 

“We’re going to be late for the opening act,” Lionel complains, rustling the banana curls in Lena’s hair as she passes. 

Lex helps her into the limo first, and then slides in beside his mother. “It’s Lena’s fault,” he states, matter of factly. “She wouldn’t put her book aside or brush her teeth.” 

Lena has recently developed a stubborn streak and takes delight in her newfound power to annoy Lex. 

He spends a great deal of time correcting her errors, and sometimes when she gets on his nerves, he shuts her up in the closet to reflect on righting herself in the future. 

This is her way of getting back at him, or so she thinks.

“Lena, we don’t waste time in the Luthor household,” Lillian intones and pulls her daughter’s small hand away from her face, where Lena’s been idly chewing on a cuticle. 

“We also don’t put our hands in our mouths,” Lillian explains and glances over at Lionel, who appears disinterested in this family outing and the family in general.

Lena tucks her hands under her legs so she feels less tempted to fall into nervous habits. 

She watches her father, whose eyes wander and follow the snowflakes that drift around the limo. He seems to realize she’s focused on him because he loops his arm over her shoulder. 

Lena smiles up at him and snuggles into Lionel’s arms gratefully. 

“Cold night,” Lionel comments as he tugs a flask from his pocket, which smells strong and pungent when he uncaps it. 

“A little of this keeps me warm,” Lionel softly drawls. “And that beautiful face. What would I do without it?” 

Tension fills the car between Lillian and father as Lena soaks up all of Lionel’s affection.

“I suppose you would need to adopt another orphan girl to be the Annie to your bald Daddy Warbucks,” Lex fires off rapidly, pleased with his own good sense of humor.

“Lex,” Lillian whispers out as if scandalized, although there’s a clear glimmer of enjoyment in her eyes. It’s only after watching Lena with Lionel for a little while that she gestures for her daughter to come to her.

Lena chooses not to budge and shakes her head moodily. 

Lionel has gone stiff and he’s glaring at Lex as if he means to thrash him as soon as he’s physically able to do it. He gulps down the rest of the drink in his flask and continues to watch the snow. 

“Balding is genetic in males,” Lena quietly reports, not to upset Lex, but just because it’s a fact she’s read about recently in a biology text book. “Usually it comes from the mother’s side, but research shows that men with bald fathers are also at high risk. And besides, I don’t have red hair, so your joke isn’t a very good one, Lex. Even if I _am_ an orphan.”

It seems to be a mistake to continue discussing it, because Lionel’s grip around Lena tightens to a strangely painful point, but then he releases her and kisses her on the cheek. “You are a Luthor, and a very clever girl,” he breathily says and strokes the hair behind her ear. “Always spending your free time reading. That reminds me. I have a new book waiting for you in my office.” 

His eyes are glazing over, and once again, Lillian gestures for Lena to go to her _now._

But Lionel’s unpredictable behavior seems like the safer choice between the two of them. 

He strokes his fingers through her hair with a heavier hand than usual, his thumb gently massaging the back of her scalp and neck. 

It’s Lex’s nervousness that gets Lena to move. It’s only when he beckons to Lena that she goes over to sit on his lap. 

“Father’s in a bad mood,” Lex warns in a low voice. “Remember what I said about his bad moods? You get as far away as possible when he’s like this, Lena. He’s angry at me right now, but I heard him on the phone earlier, and he’s drinking because of a failed plan for his business. I don’t want him to misfire that anger at you. Sit here with me and try to be quiet.” 

Lex distracts her with candy — a large chocolate bar that he pulls from his pocket and breaks into chunks. 

The rest of their ride to the theatre passes quickly, and Lillian orders Lena to stay by the car while she fastens up her coat. 

It’s easy to sense the fear in her mother and Lex, although she doesn’t quite understand why business or the silly conversation in the car caused it—even if she knows how Lionel gets when he drinks. 

Lionel shouts a lot and sometimes uses his belt on her, but he’s not always in a sour mood. 

He also listens to Lena and holds her when she’s feeling sad, and he’s a _good_ businessman. 

She’s heard plenty of people say that word in reference to him — _good_ — especially when he’s taken her with him on business trips. 

So it’s natural that she’s always seen him that way. 

Lena is doing this to herself, she realizes suddenly. 

She’s re-living these memories in pursuit of answers to a question about her father, and that strange vision of him tucking her into a hospital bed. 

But her mind won’t fully cooperate. It’s blocking her off from accessing what she wants to know. It’s staying on the fringe of a revelation, and it has to be the tech doing this to her, providing a strong resistance and preventing her from seeing what she needs to see. What she needs to remember.

She blinks, breathes and confronts another memory.

“Good, Lena, very good,” comes the encouraging voice of her fencing trainer. 

She’s twelve years old and her hair is so long that it sticks in her uniform and makes it difficult to pull off her protective face gear. 

Lillian is waiting for her on the sidelines with a bottle of water and her gym bag, because today she has a doctor’s appointment. She has just enough time to change and climb into the heated passenger seat of her mother’s Benz. 

It’s surprising that Lillian is taking over for her assistant and tending to Lena herself for a change.

“Didn’t expect to see you,” Lena comments, just as her mother seems distracted by glancing in the rearview mirror. “Don’t you normally have a standing appointment for a massage on Tuesdays?”

“I cancelled it,” Lillian tersely announces, shooting a cool glance Lena’s way as she unwraps a protein snack bar one-handed and passes it off to her daughter. “You’re more important.” 

Lena senses a lie, but she smiles because the lie still makes her feel good, and she hopes against hope that she _is_ important to Lillian. 

“Thanks, mom,” Lena whispers, and notices a strange glimmer of emotion in Lillian’s eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Lillian shakes her head in complete silence, which is so unlike her mother, it’s uncanny — and Lena continues to feel ill at ease as they wait for her appointment. 

It’s with a different doctor than Lena’s usual physician—someone who asks a lot of questions, and who her mother seems wary about from the moment they step into the clinic. 

Lena wanders around while her mother speaks to the doctor, only half-listening to their interactions. 

“My husband set up this appointment for my daughter,” Lillian intones, narrowing her eyes at the nursing staff who are currently with a little blonde girl. 

Lena glances at the girl, sparing her no more than a cursory interest. She’s petite, with curly hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. 

“No signs of abnormalities,” one of the nurses whispers to another. “All of these assessments seem so pointless. _It’s not like these chips are active yet._ ” 

Lena files that away in her mind as a peculiar thing to say, but she forgets all about it because she hears a metallic click.

Her mother has pulled a gun on the doctor. “Why would Lionel pay you off?” she shrilly asks. “Explain that to me. Why would that be necessary?” 

“I swear, Mrs. Luthor, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the doctor pleads, hands up in desperation. “Your husband scheduled this appointment for a physical so that your daughter could join a new fencing team. That’s all. There’s nothing else you need to worry about —“ 

It’s not the first time Lena’s seen her mother openly threatening someone, but her threats never fail to startle Lena.

Lillian lowers the gun after the doctor hands over a stack of forms confirming Lena’s physical condition will allow her to participate on the team. 

For a precarious moment, it seems like Lillian wants to argue further, but then she just blurts, “You couldn’t have faxed all of this to me?” and Lena exhales the air she’s been holding in her lungs.

With the paperwork in hand, Lillian storms to the exit with Lena. None of this unusual, but the relief on her mother’s face is, along with the way Lillian softens as she glances down at her. 

“What’s the name of that little bistro you like? The one on 59th street?” Lillian asks, ignoring all of the frightened scrambling of the nurses and other patients in the background.

“Gloria’s?” Lena replies and apologetically glances back at everyone her mother terrorized. 

The authorities will probably be called, but Lena expects her mother won’t get into any trouble for what she’s done. 

There’s been plenty of similar incidents and the police never became too heavily involved. Lillian’s staff just seem to take care of any issues that arise. 

“Ah, Gloria’s,” Lillian nods, and it’s clear that this is her mother’s way of trying to make Lena feel better about her slightly murderous outburst. “Right. Let’s stop there for dinner and then we’ll head home.”

_Home._

That word pulls Lena out of her memories and throws her back into the current moment. 

Yet Lena still feels divided: she’s in the home where she grew up, but she’s no more present within herself than the soft cloth doll with knotty hair that sits in the corner of her bed. 

Her eyes are haunted, with dark circles beneath them, and tears that lurk in the corners until they spring free. 

She holds her pillow in a tight grip and cries, mute and unable to express herself in any other way. Her parched lips move, but no intelligible sound comes out. In the doorway nearby, her mother is watching her with a gloomy look on her face.

Kara crouches down beside Lena and runs a soothing hand over her back. 

With a quiet sniffle of complaint, Lena avoids the gentle touch and folds her knees up more compactly. 

“Lena?” Kara squeaks in fright, like she’s desperate for a sign that Lena will be okay. “What just happened? We were on Krypton a second ago and now we’re in the home where you grew up. Can you tell me how we got here?”

_Lena can’t._

She’s mentally in another place, another time: she’s confused, drifting through moments in her life when her soul and body have hurt. 

Lena tries to navigate through a happier recent memory, one that she shouldn’t be able to recall at all. Fuzzy and strange, it only becomes clear when she concentrates. 

It’s been shunted off and concealed from her this whole time, but once she’s reliving it in parts, it starts to flow coherently, and Kara’s groaning _Lena._

They are at the Baldwin — she’s on her back and Kara’s kissing up her throat, whispering praises all the way up to her ear. Lena’s dress is halfway down her body, her underwear is bundled up somewhere on the floor where’s it been discarded, and her heels slide from her feet as she hangs over the edge of the bed. Kara’s hand settle under her ass and then she’s lifting Lena up, moving her to a more comfortable resting place against the pillows. 

Lena’s reeling from a first orgasm, palm on her forehead as she tries to catch her breath. She sees bright stars, and Kara’s smiling, hopeful face above her. 

It’s bittersweet and painful, if only because of the worshipping way Kara lilts “ _good,_ so good Lena,” against her jawline as she spreads her pussy lips and slides two fingers back into her.

“I’m going to make you come again for me,” Kara hums, rubbing at the upper wall inside of her that makes Lena’s toes curl. “So many times. I love you.” 

It’s such an arousing vision, one that Lena still can’t wholly remember: the memory trickles away and all she’s left with is the emotions associated with it. Like a lake that has dried up, there’s only evidence of where the water has been.

All she knows is that this first experience with Kara was romantic, just like the lovemaking she’s always imagined them sharing. _But was it real, or wasn’t it?_ She can’t tell, and the fact that it’s all lost to her now makes her cry.

Wracked by a sob, Lena ignores Kara, her mother, and all of her friends, who have wandered into the bedroom and stand in silence near the door — determined to help, but so in shock from seeing her this vulnerable. 

She’s clawing at her scalp, embedding her nails into hair and skin without a full awareness of why she’s doing it.

“It was like this before,” Lillian intones and gestures towards the bed, referring to Lena’s self-destructive actions. “I never figured out what happened to her. She was a normal five year old girl one day, and then her behavior changed drastically.”

Kelly looks like she wants to offer up insights, but she guides Lillian out of the room to do it. 

Only Kara and Alex stay, whispering to each other while Lena listens. 

Then Kara’s eyes shift, honing in on her head as she X-rays the place where Lena’s fingers keep returning. 

“There’s something inside of her,” Kara shouts, and that gets everyone back into the bedroom. 

Kara bends next to Lena and puts a hand under her chin, even as Lena struggles to move away. 

“It really tiny, but it looks like some kind of chip,” Kara concludes with a squint and a mystified frown. “Could Lionel have implanted it in Lena’s head when she was young?” 

Lillian crosses her arms and hangs her head, looking like she’s been punched in the stomach with knowledge. “Yes,” she breathes. “It’s possible. He took Lena and Lex on a business trip around the time Lena stopped speaking. When Lex came back, he was upset because he spent a lot of his time at the hotel alone. Lionel said it was because he and Lena needed some bonding time. I was angry at Lionel for showing favoritism, and afterwards he claimed that was why Lena wouldn’t talk to anyone—“

Kara’s breathing heavier in that anxious way that makes her flail, and then she’s giving orders: “Alex, go pack some supplies with J’onn. Lillian: can you try to search through Lionel’s belongings in case there’s any information on what he did? Kelly and Brainy can help you. Nia, why don’t you stay and we’ll get Lena out to the car?” 

“The car?” Nia blinks in confusion, then smiles for Lena’s benefit. “Are we going somewhere?” 

“The Eye of the Universe,” Kara states with a firm nod, as if she’s come up with a plan. “The place that Lillian thought Lionel would originally be. We should check it out.”

“It does sound pretty ominous, but who’s to say we won’t get halfway there, and end up right back here?” Brainy chimes in, flicking the hair away from his face. He frowns in suspicion as he spots Lena’s doll and picks it up. “I never thought Lena would be the type to play with dolls.” His brows cinch together as he holds the toy, then tugs off the doll’s strangely lumpy head. 

Quirking an eyebrow, Brainy holds up a tiny camera and begins to fiddle with it.

Lillian’s mouth forms a hard and menacing line. She storms over to get a better glimpse at the camera and then turns to Lena. 

Kara goes slack-jawed as she takes in the monitoring device, then she shares a look with Alex. “Lena’s entire life,” she breathes, airless and wheezy. “Her entire life, she’s been used and monitored and part of this whole plan. Leviathan must have been waiting to strike at the ideal moment when she was vulnerable. When they could use her to do whatever they wanted. It explains why the tech has such a hold. Whatever she’s developed must be working in coordination with the original device Lionel put in her—“

Lena is barely sitting up in bed, her cheeks flushed with heat. She’s not interested in the camera hidden in her doll, or what Kara’s said, or in any of the people in her childhood bedroom. She doesn’t care that the woman who raised her, who never loved her, is now staring — wide-eyed and pained as she roots her fingers into her hair.

“I was so busy hating you for coming into my life that I missed all of this,” Lillian whispers hoarsely, her face showing deep marks of regret. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I treated you like you were a burden and a pain I had to endure, but you were never that.” 

There’s a flurry of activity in the bedroom as Kara and all of her friends re-group, stepping outside to discuss this new information on Lionel. 

“God, Lena was just a baby when this happened to her,” Alex states in a shrill whisper, outraged and almost parental in how she glances back at Lena, who’s a grown adult but also sitting in a child’s bed. 

“I don’t know how I missed the device in her head,” Brainy frowns and his eyebrows twitch together in frustration. “I just wasn’t looking for it, or maybe it wasn’t functioning at the time I ran my test. I assumed that Lena’s tech was causing all of these problems but Leviathan has been working on mind control devices for ages. I wouldn’t have thought that one of the leaders would use the tech on his own daughter, though —“

“I heard rumors that Leviathan worked with the government on a special project to enhance soldiers with microchips,” J’onn butts in, his hands on his hips as he seems to be wracking his memory for any useful information. “I think I remember a team of DEO agents being sent in to raid some kind of facility. The team didn’t find any soldiers there.” His voice drops off as if he’s worried about sharing a detail of the case. 

“The team found children,” J’onn divulges with a huff, falling out of his stern posture. “Some alien, some human. If I’m recalling correctly, it was a similar situation. We used surgical intervention to remove the tech implants.” 

“We can’t do that with Lena,” Alex interrupts, worriedly throwing a glance around at all of the faces of their friends. “I mean, not until we’re out of the virtual reality.“ 

“We’re talking about doing brain surgery on our friend,” Nia blurts, upset by all of these circumstances, and perhaps even bothered on some deeper personal level. She’s fretfully chewing her lip. “Maybe we can find the specs of the device and get a message to Brainy’s sister. If she can shut the device down, it could get us out of here.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Kelly says with an impressed nod, swinging around to face Kara, because they all tacitly agree that Kara’s the one calling the shots with respect to Lena. 

“Find the specs of the device if we can,” Kara confirms anxiously, and then hesitates, working out a problem it seems that she won’t yet articulate. “ _Go._ ” 

It might be futile to ransack the house where Lena grew up, but that is what most of them set off to do. 

Kara lingers in the doorway, focusing on Lillian, who is hunched over at the side of the bed and silently grieving her part in this nightmare. 

All the while, Lena is drifting — she sees Kara, but then someone else stands in her place, passing through the superhero like a phantom. 

It’s a trick of Lena’s mind, another interruptive memory that almost takes over the whole bedroom. _Almost._

“Lena?” Kara asks, watching her empty gaze wander, following phantoms that aren’t there. “Lena, please talk to me. I know you’re shutting down and I don’t blame you. Just tell me what I have to do to fix it.” 

Kara’s words have some effect as she sits down across from Lena, taking both of her hands. 

“Fix it,” Lena pleads meaningfully, eyes red-rimmed and overflowing with tears. Her smile forms, but contorts as she begins to feel desperate, unable to articulate what she wants. “Fix - _fix_ it.”

Kara reacts strongly to that and circles her arms around Lena, lifting her up. “I’m going to help you, Lena, I promise,” she softly conveys. “Nothing’s going to drive us apart again. I promise you that. We can work through any of the problems we have once I get you back to the real world, safe and sound.” 

Lena rests her face against Kara’s shoulder and shuts her eyes. Her head hurts and her ears are ringing. 

Alex bursts back into the room and approaches Kara, kneeling next to her on the floor by Lena’s bedside. “The house is changing,” she hisses. “It’s like… all of our dreams, memories and fears are consolidating. I found some stuff from when we were kids. Like this bag of yours that my friends ruined.” She holds up a pink, blue, and purple plaid backpack that Kara seems to recognize. Then Alex shows off one of the zipper compartments where someone has scrawled the word _loser_ in permanent marker. 

Kara visibly reacts to the bag and seems to shrink for a moment. “They were always so mean.” She murmurs under her breath, but then she eyes Alex warily until her sister drops the backpack. 

Kara cradles Lena closer, picks her up and rushes into the hall to see what’s going on.

Everyone looks upset, and Kara tightens her arms around Lena as if to reassure her. 

“We can’t stay here,” Kara states. “Whatever this is, it’s bad.”

Nia’s sitting in the window seat by the stairwell, holding onto a piece of paper that’s bringing tears to her eyes. Kelly’s standing next to her, hand on her shoulder, while also clutching the jacket from a military uniform against her side.

“This is all a psychological manipulation,” Kelly argues in frustration, and because it’s a therapist announcing this, no one seems to be comforted. “The virtual reality seems to be serving up reminders of everyone’s past trauma now.” 

“The worst part is, we don’t even know what set this off,” Alex sighs out, glancing around as if she expects the walls to start closing in on them next. 

“It was — I think it was _me,_ ” Kara stutters out brokenly and her chin wobbles. She sets Lena down and searches her eyes curiously. “It was me, wasn’t it?”

Lena’s still struggling to talk, but it’s how Kara’s placing the blame on herself that gets her to blurt out firmly, “No.” 

“Then what, Lena?” Alex presses, desperate for way to end their entrapment in this strange world. “What started this?”

“It doesn’t matter how it started. We can’t let it continue.” J’onn hisses from between his teeth. He’s holding two small toys that must have belonged to his daughters, but he clenches his fist so hard that they break and fall to the floor.

Lillian is staring at Lena, still aghast at the way she’s been reduced to this near-mute state. She seems to notice the way everyone is stuck in their own despair and suddenly strides forward with purpose. “Wallowing is only going to slow us down. It’s time to be productive.”

Kara draws her a look and frowns when she sees that Lillian is the only one without an item to taunt her. “Where’s your baggage? Why are we all being reminded of our past and you aren’t?”

Lillian freezes with her hand outstretched, her fingers curled around the handle of a door as she glances over shoulder to sneer at Kara. “Take a look around. This entire house is my baggage. Every inch of it is filled with misery.” She opens the door to walk through, but she barely takes a step before she gasps at what she finds inside. 

It’s Lena, small and hunched over in distress, clutching at her elbows as Lionel sets a puzzle down in front of her. She must be about six years old, based on her clothes and the teeth she’s missing. Lena reaches out to take the puzzle, to manipulate its complexities as her father stands back and turns the knob on a timer. 

Neither Lena nor Lionel seem to notice anyone watching them, and when the timer goes off without her completing the task, he loses his temper. Lena flinches as he smacks the puzzle out of her hands. She dives underneath the table to hide from him. 

“Lena,” Lillian cries out and tries to go to her daughter, but adult Lena hurries over and slams the door so fast that everyone’s attention snaps to her. 

“He was just teaching me to be faster at problem solving,” Lena blurts, waving her shaky hand as if this living memory hasn’t disturbed her — as if it’s not a big deal that everyone including Kara has just witnessed this glimpse of abuse that she had personally forgotten. 

Warily, Lena cracks open the door again, only because she senses Lillian’s itching to do it, and as soon as she sees a gangly teenage Lex, she regrets her decision. 

He’s presenting Lena with another puzzle, this one much harder to solve, and not far away there’s a black and white hamster in a cage running on a tiny wheel. 

“Lena,” Lex lilts patiently, holding out the puzzle in front of her little face. “Father tells me you’ve been struggling, but I know you can do this, given the right incentive.” He takes her hand and leads her over to the hamster. “If you finish this puzzle in time, you can keep our small, fluffy friend in there. Wouldn’t you like that? His fate depends on you.”

Lena practically shoves the door shut on Lillian’s fingers and turns to her friends, chest heaving as she grabs her head. 

She moves to another door, takes a peek inside and sees herself sobbing at her desk at L-Corp over a broken glass frame containing a photo of her, Kara and Alex. 

There are other darker, more troubling rooms — containing violent memories, memories of people who lied to her, tortured her and almost killed her. 

It’s J’onn who walks up behind her and shuts a door that makes her blood run cold. He’s tuned in to her frantic mental state and guides her safely back towards her mother and to Kara. 

“Lena is causing this.” Brainy concludes after a second of consideration. “ _Unintentionally._ ” He hurries to explain, as Kara glares at him in a way that may just cause lasers to erupt from her eyes. She’s wrapping Lena protectively in her arms again, and for once, Lillian doesn’t hesitate to rub Lena’s back to try and soothe her.

“The device that’s been fused with her brain. I believe her current state is affecting the virtual world, and I doubt we’re helping it, because we’re all under a high amount of stress which seem to be feeding these occurrences.” Brainy rapidly states, and he seems apprehensive as he waits for it all to sink in.

“So we're stuck in a negative loop.” Kelly speculates with a frown, and rubs at her temple as if she’s trying to coax an idea out.

Kara presses her cheek to the top of Lena’s head and whispers that it’s going to be okay, then she chokes as words tumble from her mouth faster than her tongue can handle. “Then _we_ — we have to think happy thoughts.”

Alex squints at her in disbelief and side-eyes Nia. “Okay, Kara, now is not the time for Peter Pan.” She mutters, and from the look on her face she’s obviously wondering if Kara’s having a break down.

“No listen to me,” Kara implores the group. “If Lena is reliving all of the negative moments in her life, then we — we can break the cycle by sharing all the good memories of her being in our lives. Instead of focusing on fear and our pain, we need to focus on love, and the algorithm will have to adjust to it.” 

“So, think happy thoughts?” Nia asks, and glances to Brainy to see what his reaction is to that.

Brainy gestures awkwardly at the group, confirming that it’s indeed worth a try.

“Lena and I have had several heart-to-hearts, and she’s given me plenty of advice,” Brainy begins. “She taught me how to compartmentalize my feelings into little boxes, which I’m not so sure is a useful skill anymore.” His voice tapers off as he dead pans. “I mean, her boxes have expanded to the size of full rooms—” 

“Okay, speaking privileges are now temporarily revoked,” Nia says, sticking out her hand and using it to demonstrate how a mouth closes for Brainy. “ _My turn._ Lena, you were always such a supportive boss. I remember feeling very nervous about my early days on the job, and you made it easier for me. You knew when I was stressed and never gave me more than I could handle.”

Lena’s listening, but the conversation makes her shrink into Kara even more than the terrible memories did. It’s uncomfortable for her, and she would try to escape this if she could find one safe room in which to hide from everyone. 

Alex is focusing intently on Lena and jumps in where Nia has left off. “I have to say my initial impression of Lena was all wrong,” she softly admits and tries to meet Lena’s eyes. “But I’m so glad I got to know you better. Any time we’ve been in crisis, you were always the first to come up with solutions. I know we still have a broken trust between us, but I think I speak for everyone here by saying we want to make things right. We care about you and I hope you know none of us think less of you because of what we’ve all seen.” 

“Alex is right,” Kelly insists with a quiet punch to her tone as she glances around at all of the closed doors. “We haven’t known each other that long, but from what I do know about you, you’re a very strong woman, Lena—” 

“Okay, enough,” Lena gently snaps out and pulls back from Kara, and her mother’s strange attempts to provide some type of maternal physical affection. “Not that I’m ungrateful. I just feel a bit ridiculous at the moment.” 

Lena moves away from the group and towards the far window in the hall to stare out into the daylight. She can’t see the way everyone’s eyes follow her, but she can hear the sound of her mother’s expensive heels clicking across the floor, warning of her presence before she stops beside Lena. For a good ten seconds, Lillian says absolutely nothing. Lena doesn’t turn to look at her, but she can see her reflection in the glass — a troubled look hollows her eyes and she looks remarkably younger in her uncertainty.

“I had no idea…” Lillian begins, her mouth tight as she tries to convey whatever is on her mind. Emotions are frivolous things that take up too much time, according to every Luthor, and Lena is already bracing herself for whatever comes next.

“I’ve always known that I failed you, but repeatedly? What kind of mother…” Lillian trails off in despair and raises her hand to clasp Lena’s shoulder. She squeezes as she chokes out, “I’m sorry, Lena. I’m so sorry that you endured that all alone and that I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me.”

“I don’t want to do this with you,” Lena mutters as neutrally as possible, dropping her hands at her sides, because if she can’t be strong, she expects to end up in the exact same condition she was in when she woke up in her childhood bedroom. She rolls her shoulder forward, away from her mother's touch, and continues to stare pointedly at nothing. 

It’s like they have all stepped into her personal hell now, after seeing what Kara’s idea of heaven is like. Lena stands tall and bravely, strengthened in part by everyone around her, and motivated by a determination not to let them see any more of her vulnerabilities.

“If you want to help, go find me a drink, straight up,” Lena suggests, arching her eyebrow at her mother as a perverse smile pulls at her lips, completely at odds with how shattered she’s feeling. “Or continue to stand there and utter empty apologies. Tell me you never had any idea what my father or Lex were doing to me. Claim that you never saw how much your repeated rejections affected my sense of self-worth. Go ahead and lie to me again if you want.” 

It’s Kara that coaxes Lillian away, as though stunned by what she’s just heard. She takes her place beside Lena and doesn’t wait to speak. 

In typical Kara-fashion, words just flow freely from her, all of her emotions right there on the surface for everyone to see. “Lena, are you okay? I — I _know_ you don’t want to talk about it, and that you need a minute, but I just have to tell you that while you’re so brave, and so incredibly smart, it’s your kindness that always shines through the brightest for me, and it’s been a guiding light for me ever since I met you. You inspire me every day to try and be better and do good and you’re invaluable in my life. In all our lives, even if you don’t believe us when we say it, you are so important to all of us. Especially me.”

Lena smiles at the sincerity behind Kara’s words, but it’s a thin and watery smile. She extends her hand, squeezing Kara’s with as much tenderness as she can muster. 

The strong impulse to begin walking away comes over her, and Lena experiences a flash of recognition: she inexplicably feels that her will has finally finished merging with the algorithm. 

“I can’t fight this, Kara,” Lena whimpers out, her mouth quivering as her words come much slower. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. After all that you’ve done to save me, I still feel so hopeless. You need to get out of this place – all of you. Leave me. Please, just go.”

She’s weeping before she can hold it in—tears splashing down her cheeks as she separates from Kara.

Lionel strides up the long staircase, gliding so quietly that no one notices his presence. He beckons to Lena at the top of the landing, and she responds to his cue as a machine would. She goes to him immediately, as if he’s the only one who can soothe her. 

As she leans into his arms, Lionel strokes her hair and gazes at Kara, as if daring her to come after him when he’s holding onto the one thing that’s most precious to the hero. 

“You’ve all played so nicely into my plans and I just wanted to take the time to thank you,” Lionel softly explains. “I worked long and hard on my invention for years, but it took Lena to make it work. Without her genius, I would never have been able to accomplish this, and without all of you, my original algorithm would have been useless. In case you weren’t aware by now, I set it up to be triggered by a certain event in Lena's life.”

Lionel places two fingers under Lena’s chin to make her look at him and then he kisses her forehead. “You see, my daughter and I are very much alike,” he says. “I knew what it would take to break her. I knew someone would love her some day and betray her, the same way her mother betrayed me.”

He continues to possessively stroke Lena’s hair as he speaks to her directly. “Your mother broke my heart,” he whispers. “She made me fall in love with her and she lied to me about who she was, so I had to kill her. I made it look like an accident. I really had no choice. She was my enemy—someone who worked for years to undermine Leviathan’s goals.”

Lena’s not capable of registering emotions right now, because the algorithm has taken hold, although her face is still a mess of tears. She hears what happened to her mother, but she’s blocked from reacting to it, both from lashing out at him or retreating to Kara. 

“I’ll take care of you, Lena,” Lionel assures her generously, wrapping an arm around her again. “I know it was painful for you to endure these last few months, but dealing with all of these traitors will make you stronger in the end. Once you rid yourself of them, you’ll feel much stronger. Or you can keep them, control them - whatever you like.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena sees the collective horror of her friends, their desire to intervene weighed against their fear of acting. 

“As we all stand here, your earth is undergoing changes,” Lionel informs them succinctly. “It must be destroyed to make room for my new world. Without any heroes or the DEO to interfere, there’s no one to stop me from moving ahead with these plans.”

Lena shuts her eyes firmly and tries not to listen to her father’s grandstanding. 

She focuses all of her diminished power on a mental image—one of total self-obliteration. If she can destroy herself, then the tech that’s working within her and through her will stop functioning. She pulls her arms free from Lionel, and all she can manage is a fleeting glance over her shoulder at Kara.

In that last glance, a thousand feelings are communicated: her intense eyes are a place of refuge where Kara can see all of her dreams lived out — afternoons of cuddling on the sofa, lunch dates and romantic evenings by candlelight. A future with children. _Just not with Lena._

That glance is a goodbye — a promise that Kara will survive this and get a chance at true happiness. 

The failsafe in Lena’s own tech is calling to her and she takes the chance while she still can. 

She executes the control sequence, which requires her to utter a code, and then the M1dn1ght feature becomes active. 

Flinging back another door in the strange house that was never truly a home to Lena, she sees a maelstrom of energies conveniently waiting for her.

It’s strong enough to begin pulling objects into it. She steps inside.


	18. Chapter 18

Kara has mere seconds to hurtle herself into the strange void that Lena’s failsafe creates. She leaps forward with her hands outstretched, determined to rescue Lena and fly her back to safety. All around them is darkness, with a pinprick of light that seems to pull and pull. 

Lena must lose consciousness as soon as they touch, because she falls limp as Kara braces both hands under her arms and legs.

“I won’t let you go!” Kara shouts, hoping that Lena can hear it. She’s confident that she’s got Lena, but then the unpredictable happens. 

Kara holds on tight, even as Lena’s particles begin to break apart. It feels like an eternity of cradling her and also like her remnants scatter too fast. 

Like a thousand dandelion wisps blown every direction on the wind, Lena floats away from Kara’s twitching fingertips. 

It’s an experience Kara will always remember, along with the jolting sensation of waking up in the _real_ world on a medical cot at the DEO. 

The pain of losing Lena is as severe as if she’s been sleeping under a Kryptonite blanket all of this time. 

There’s a sun lamp poised above Kara that makes her energy return, but she still can’t move or breathe. Not far away, everyone else is stirring and embracing, _except for Lena._

A medical team instantly surrounds the pale body and tries to shock her back to life. Alex takes charge and yells orders. The team wheels Lena away to a sterile room, both to stabilize her and remove the chip from her head.

For the next few days, Kara is _not_ a hero. 

She ignores the crisis that’s developing in her real world, to the point that outside help needs to be sought and heroes from other earths are called upon to protect Earth-38. 

The leaders of Leviathan no longer control the masses through Lena’s tech, but enough people have been swayed to their cause. 

Mayhem in the streets is just one outcome, and Kara learns that the leaders of Leviathan are calling the shots now, and that Lionel _and_ Lex are involved with their end game of altering the face of the earth. Lex might have died in the virtual reality, but not in their real world.

The same can’t be said of Lena: her heart stops again on the operating table, and once while in recovery, and Kara lurks in the corridor of the DEO, listening to the erratic machines, unwilling to talk to anyone. 

Most of her friends are out trying to help with the growing disaster. 

She, on the other hand, is stuck in her own head, frantically pacing all of the time, and fixated only on Lena’s breathing. Kara can’t bring herself to enter the recovery room, but she also can’t leave. 

When Alex reappears and just stares at her questioningly, Kara huffs out, “ _I have to be here,_ Alex. I always put duty before Lena and I’m not doing it again—“

It’s an argument they have several more times, about how earth is about to be obliterated. But Kara’s not herself, and although she knows that Lena wouldn’t want her to act like this, she won’t budge or pitch in until Lena opens her eyes. 

When Alex finally corners her two days later, how Kara’s really feeling comes out in one conversation.

“We need you, Kara,” Alex pleads in desperation, her face full of soot from a recent attack. “Leviathan is destroying us out there. They are over-throwing governments and using other tech to ruin our environment. Oliver, Barry and Clark are doing all that they can and it’s still not enough. People are dying and this battle is far from over! Why won’t you help us?”

They go another few rounds like this until Kara impulsively blurts, “Because I just keep re-living Krypton over and over in my head! I don’t want to witness my whole world falling apart again, especially when I’m helpless to do anything to stop it! If Superman can’t fix this, what makes you think I can?! I should have been able to save Lena and I couldn’t even do that! All I did was watch while she flung herself through that door and then fell apart in my hands!” 

Her rant is punctuated by harsh sobs. She hiccups and shakes as she cries, and Alex pulls her into an embrace that lasts. 

There’s nowhere comfortable to sit, so they end up huddled on the floor together and they stay like that for well over an hour. 

“You’re the strongest hero I know,” Alex softly reassures her while she wipes Kara’s face. “There is a reason Lex tried to use Red Daughter against you when he wanted to take you down, because the _only_ person strong enough to beat you in a fight is yourself. Your main problem is that you underestimate how powerful you are, and you forget how many obstacles you’ve already overcome. I’d also like to point out _again_ that you succeeded as far as your mission with Lena is concerned. You reconnected, and she pulled us out of the virtual world just in time—“

“She threw herself into her own self-destruct mechanism to avoid being controlled by Leviathan!” Kara quietly raves. “That’s not success, Alex. I screwed up.”

Kara feels like she did _nothing_ for Lena but drive her towards inevitable disaster. Her actions were the catalyst to making Lena vulnerable and a pawn for the technology.

It’s too hard to cope with the guilt of that, not just from her part in hurting Lena, but from the crisis unfolding outside as a result. There’s also the deeper guilt she’s held onto for years from watching her entire civilization perish. The guilt of surviving. 

She should be motivated to alter events and rise up as a hero so that the same thing doesn’t happen to her earth, but instead she’s sitting with her knees curled to her chest and imagining the face of Krypton as it engulfs in fire.

It brings a terror and paralyzed feeling to her limbs that no amount of movement can shake off—not fidgeting or pacing, or even anchoring herself to Alex. 

When she stands up, Kara finally bursts through the door to see Lena.

It takes actually stepping into Lena’s recovery room to activate all of her buried rages and emotions. 

A bandage covers one side of Lena’s head and the unnatural, ghostly color of her skin makes Kara’s hands curl into fists. The desire to punish _everyone_ responsible for this comes on so strong that she quakes. 

“Brief me on Leviathan,” Kara demands as she turns towards Alex, who stands in the doorway warily keeping an eye on her. “Who is behind all of this, other than the Luthors? I’m going to destroy them _all._ ”

Alex seems shocked and worried, but she leads the way through the hall to clue Kara in on everything they have discovered since re-emerging from the virtual world. 

“There’s a group of ancient meta-humans who first formed Leviathan,” Alex discloses and generates their profiles on a screen in the central room of the DEO. “Seven in total and they have each been controlling different groups of people through Lena’s tech.” 

The diagram shows the seven meta-humans as the heads of a complex monster. 

It’s all that Kara needs to identify them and she nods to Alex. “Keep me in the loop about where they’ve been sighted.” 

Her mania for revenge almost becomes outright bloodlust as she’s mid-flight over National City.

Hovering over destruction and crumbling buildings, Kara is poised to strike down any Leviathan enemy she spots first. 

_And she does._

Lena opens her eyes two weeks later, to the sound of her mother talking to someone in the hallway, and to a woozy sensation that can only be explained by pain meds. 

She sits still long enough to process that she’s at the DEO and not still trapped in her virtual reality. 

Her hand drifts to her head and she breathes shallowly as she realizes that the chip Lionel implanted in her must now be gone.

It takes a while before she reaches out for a plastic pitcher of water on her bedside table, and even longer for her to use her scratchy throat to drink it all. 

“Kara?” She croaks out, too softly to be heard, and glances down at the floor while considering how much effort it might require to stand up. 

After the passing of so much time, her muscles should be atrophied, but miraculously not much has changed about her physical person, except for a small missing patch of hair. She discovers it when she continues to touch her scalp and the sterile band that keeps the area clear.

The spot would be easy to miss if hidden underneath the rest of her hair, but if she puts it up the way she normally prefers to wear it, the tiny area will be visible to everyone. It inspires a stronger emotional reaction in her than she expects and her eyes water with resentful tears.

As she wanders around in her quiet recovery room, she notices a colorful bracelet on the table where she found the pitcher of water. 

She’s already picking it up and fitting the bracelet around her wrist before she pauses to wonder why Kara has left it for her. 

It’s blue and red, in all of the shades they both seem to wear, so it _must_ be from Kara. Only after the bracelet is secure does Lena recognize its Kryptonian cultural significance, and what it might mean to Kara to see her wearing it.

It means a commitment that Lena isn’t ready to make and she tugs it off. 

“Kara?” she calls out again, this time a little more urgently. 

Standing up for too long tires her out and she’s about to slide back underneath the thick knit hospital blankets when Kelly and Lillian peek into the room. 

Two frantic doctors that Lena’s never met hurry in to check her over, and when they leave, Lillian very politely asks from the doorway, “May I come in, please?” 

Lena gestures to her mother and Kelly and gives them permission with a soft nod. She almost wants Lillian to forget all formalities, but also thinks it’s better this way—that they keep to their usual etiquette and maintain the distance between them. 

Lillian comes over to sit at the side of the bed and cups her cheek, then does a surprising thing and wraps her up in a hug. 

Lena shrinks from it, weakly falters back and sits on the edge of her bed. She can’t remember the last time her mother hugged her. “How long have I been in here?” she quietly asks, too startled to think or say more than that. 

“About three weeks,” Kelly reports and glances towards Lillian, who seems uncertain about what to do with herself. “Alex, a whole team of surgeons, along with Brainy and I, worked out the safest procedure to remove the tech from your head. We don’t expect that you’re going to have any lasting damage from it, apart from a small scar. You might have some minor vision and balance issues for a while, but we’ll do a full assessment when you’re feeling up to it—”

Lena’s jaw stiffens at the idea of living with long term physical reminders of her father’s evil. “And everyone else?” she asks abruptly. “Are they all safe?”

Kelly seems to hesitate but then she nods and folds her hands over her knee, as if getting comfortable to offer up a long explanation. “Everyone made it out of the virtual reality alive,” she states. “But Leviathan tore National City apart. Kara’s been called to duty to protect not only our world, but all of the others, too. She’s gone to another earth where Leviathan is now striking even harder. She just came to say her goodbyes to you. She left you something—“

Glancing around in search of it, Kelly cocks her head in confusion. 

Lena pulls out the bracelet, and this time puts it on, tying it off in a neat little knot. 

Lillian stares pointedly at the piece of jewelry and her nostrils flare, but her eyes are soft when she glances up at Lena. “We are going to be cleaning up after your father and brother for a long time,” she intones. “Supergirl absolutely annihilated four of Leviathan’s leaders, but your father escaped. Your brother is also alive. Big surprise. His death in the virtual reality didn’t stick for some reason.”

“We’re all still in jeopardy, and there’s no telling what will happen if Kara fails her mission,” Kelly reveals, and Lena wonders if there’s more that she’s holding back in the hopes of keeping the atmosphere in the recovery room from becoming too heavy.

Lena is already experiencing nausea from the thought of having missed Kara. She wonders what Kara would have said if given half the chance, and how she might have responded in that moment. 

“I do have one good piece of news,” Lillian offers up, and bizarrely leans forward with her cell phone to show Lena a set of pictures. “I bought you an amazing apartment. Real estate prices have dropped to an all-time low because National City has become a total hot bed of crime and destruction. Do you like it?”

It’s another week before Lena leaves the DEO, not because of her head, but because she’s been delaying and soaking up all of the available information on Kara and her whereabouts. 

She wanders around and accesses all of the computers while Brainy and Nia give her a run-down on what’s been happening. 

“You know what braneworlds are, right?” Brainy asks as he taps into a computer program he designed. 

“Of course,” Lena confirms while she leans over him to peer at the screen. 

“Well, I don’t,” Nia complains. She’s drinking a glass of chocolate milk through a straw and eating a sandwich for lunch. 

Brainy tugs the milk out of Nia’s hands and begins to blow bubbles into it, much to Nia’s horror. 

“See how the bubbles are interconnected? There are 52 main earths that are connected somewhat like this, and an infinite number of earths in the greater multiverse. Observe as one bubble begins to collapse, they all start to collapse,” Brainy hums, and tries to pop the bubbles, then he blows into the straw again and pushes the glass back to Nia. 

“Uh. Would you have done that even if we weren’t basically a couple?” Nia asks with a scrunch of her nose. She wraps up the rest of her food, clearly because she’s lost her appetite. 

“There’s a 33% chance that I would,” Brainy considers and tilts his head.

For a moment, Brainy seems to be trying to remember the point he planned to make before Nia questioned his actions. 

“Oh—yes, back to what I was saying: the collapse of one earth could trigger a more cataclysmic event across several different earths,” Brainy patiently explains. “Simply put: all of our worlds could implode. That is what Kara is trying to prevent. Leviathan has de-stabilized our earth, and on all of the 52 different earths, there have been similar de-stabilizing events. The Monitor and the Anti-monitor are even involved—”

Alex clears her throat behind Brainy, and when Lena glances over, she sees that her own long black coat is draped over Alex’s arm. 

“Hey Lena, we thought we’d get you settled into your new place today,” Alex pipes up, and Lena can tell this is something that’s been discussed at length behind her back, because Kelly is already prepared to leave, and Nia lifts her bag immediately.

As much as Lena is putting in an effort to interact with everyone, and to give them all the chance to return to their normal lives, she feels a twinge of irritation. She should have been included in their conversations about moving her into her apartment.

For a lot of reasons, Lena would prefer to stay at the DEO, one of which is a strong fear that either her father or brother will attack her in her new home. 

The other main reason is that she likes the ability to get faster updates on Kara. She still experiences a range of different emotions whenever she thinks about their relationship, but she’s mostly been in a state of constant worry since waking up. 

Lena takes her coat from Alex and stuffs it into a bag with a few of her other belongings. 

“You know, I can just call for a car to pick me up and drive me home whenever I’m ready to go,” Lena softly intones, wondering if that will prevent Alex from making a big deal about accompanying her. 

“We’d rather be there for you,” Alex insists and shoves both her hands into her leather jacket in search of her keys. “Being at the DEO is interfering with your ability to rest, and that’s something you really need to do right now. I promised Kara that you would wake up, and that when you did, I wasn’t going to let you wear yourself out.”

This is Alex’s way of showing care. It occurs to Lena that it bothers her so much _not_ because Alex is pushy, but because she’s not accustomed to this level of support. 

It goes against all of Lena’s instincts, but she accepts Alex’s offer in the end. 

The one benefit of going home is that Lena can completely isolate herself for a few days. She won’t fall into old habits, or so she pretends. All she wants is some time to process. 

The time that Lena spends “processing” involves reading every newspaper account of how Kara went after the leaders of Leviathan. 

The pictures of the fights are gruesome, to say the least, and in one of the photos she gets a glimpse of Kara’s eyes — dark and void of mercy. There’s an unleashed anger in them that Lena didn’t know Kara possessed. It’s a little alarming to see, although there are other pictures where Kara seems softer and weary. 

Lena falls asleep in her big armchair with several newspapers in her lap, only to jerk awake when a short time later there’s movement outside on her balcony. 

Kara stares at her through the glass window, and Lena’s so overcome by seeing her in person again that she thoughtlessly throws herself into Kara’s arms.

It’s easy, the way Kara lifts her up and spins. Lena’s feet dangle as she clings to Kara, letting her emotions rule her in the moment, instead of that other clearheaded side of her, which says she should hold back. 

“Lena, I wish I had been there when you woke up, but everything was falling apart without me,” Kara blurts anxiously. “I’m sorry, but I’m here now—”

Lena’s deeply relieved that Kara is as awkward as always, and that the light in her eyes is still there. 

“Don’t worry about all of that,” Lena insists, and finds she’s completely flustered when they step apart from each other. “I would never expect you to neglect your responsibilities to everyone else. Our world was in jeopardy—“

“Our entire world blew up,” Kara grates out from between clenched teeth, teary eyed as she waves her hand to dismiss Lena’s sudden questions about how that would even be possible. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you what happened later. Right now I’m here, and our earth is still intact, and I just want you to tell me how you’re doing. How are you, Lena?”

She has no idea how much she dreads giving an honest answer until Kara reaches out to touch her and salty tears sting in her eyes. “Surviving,” Lena admits. “I’m alive, but I don’t feel like I’m living. How are you?”

“Lately I feel lost most of the time, but I’m happy to be back in our world with you,” Kara readily confesses, and stares at the bracelet on Lena’s wrist with a sad smile curling at her lips. “Can we sit down and talk?”

Lena holds her breath as she considers denying the request, strictly because it means getting cozier together.

It turns out that she’s entirely more accommodating than she plans to be. 

She offers to make Kara a hot drink, and then finds a few blankets tucked into her linen closet. Handing one to Kara, she joins her on the couch so they can talk more comfortably. 

“Oh, I should say thank you for this _friendship_ bracelet,” Lena emphasizes softly, turning her wrist to glance down at the piece of jewelry, while she deliberately downplays the importance of it. 

She’s not sure why she’s doing this, but she chalks it up to a desire to hear _Kara_ explain the meaning behind the gift. 

“On Krypton, they — _uh_ —they’re kind of like wedding bands,” Kara stutters out in panic, and pauses for a second as she gauges Lena’s reaction. “Not that — not that I gave you one because I have any expectations about this relationship, or because I wanted to pressure you into taking this to another level. I _just_ — if anything had happened to me, I wanted to leave you with this token of how strongly I feel about you. You’re such an important friend to me, Lena.” 

Lena shifts subtly, moving her body into a more open posture without fully being conscious of it until she’s angled herself towards Kara. 

“An important _friend_?” Lena asks.

She sounds more indignant than she really has the right to be, and she can feel the veins along the side of her temple beginning to stick out. It irks her that Kara’s using the word _friend_ , even though it’s her own fault for throwing it around in the first place.

On the one hand, she doesn’t want a more serious relationship with Kara. She’s _broken,_ and going forward that will be absolutely impossible to hide. Lena can’t fall asleep without every single light in the house on, triple checking all of her locks, and keeping a gun at her side. 

Even at that, she still wakes soaking in her own sweat from night terrors revolving around her family, and her own part in the crisis that shook the multiverse. She despises herself for being so weak that her father and Leviathan could exploit her in every way. 

Kara might have feelings for her, but Lena has to keep the boundaries between them in place. 

It’s for Kara’s sake, because Lena is _not_ worth the emotional investment. 

Lena is also protecting herself from another betrayal. Any relationship between them would inevitably fail because of her, and she would never be able to bounce back from that. She can’t, _won’t_ trust anyone ever again, even though she swore to herself she was going to try therapy and do whatever it takes to change. All of that has shifted now that she’s been released from the tech. 

She’s terrified enough of what might happen if her father or Lex come after her. Confronting her memories and dealing with her long history of trauma feels like far too much. 

“Lena?” Kara asks.

Lena realizes that she’s shaking all over when she discerns just how Kara’s looking at her. 

Kara closes the gap between them and gathers her into an embrace. “Hey, you okay?” she whispers. “Where did your mind go?” 

“Nowhere,” Lena lies in a pathetically small voice and tightens her arms around Kara. “What were you saying?”

“I said that someday, like way in the future, I would really love it if you’d go on a date with me,” Kara replies. She blushes shyly, and pushes a few dark strands of hair away from Lena’s face, enough to reveal the shorter patch where the tech was removed from Lena’s head. 

Kara’s eyes gravitate to it, and a little crinkle forms along her forehead, but she presses on with, “Obviously we need to focus on restoring the trust between us first. More than anything, I want you to be my best friend again—” 

Kara nervously chews at her bottom lip, and Lena watches pure anguish flash across her face. 

“I brought these for you,” Kara explains and passes over two leather bound journals that Lena never even saw her put down on the side table. “They contain all of my journal entries from the past few years. I’m just missing a few journals from when we first met. Red Daughter stole them. To be honest, I’m kinda glad she did. I’m not sure I could handle the embarrassment of you reading those. But I thought maybe if you read some of them, you’d get to see that underneath it all, and despite all of my reasons, I hated lying to you—” 

Lena accepts the books and places them in her lap. She touches the worn edges and a tiny scratch in one of the covers.

“You hated lying to me,” Lena echoes, her voice hushed as she cracks open the first journal and follows Kara’s script with a finger. Whirls and loops that contain Kara’s secrets, ink that bleeds. “I keep a meticulous diary too. A habit ingrained in me by Lex. But you already knew that. In your fantasy of Krypton, our journals sat side by side together on a shelf.” 

Lena hands the journals back to Kara, even though they must hold the answers to so many questions. 

“Before I read these, I want to hear it from you first,” Lena whispers, taking Kara’s hand and staring her searchingly in the eyes. “If you love me so much that you imagine having a life together, and you even say now that you _hated_ doing it, how could you get so close to me, and allow our whole relationship to be based on a lie? More importantly, what’s stopping you from ever doing that again?” 

Lena is probably going to regret speaking so candidly, but for once neither of them are overly emotional and she can get her thoughts out. She has no idea why she's speaking in hypotheticals about their future, especially because she's already decided they don't have one - but she wants these answers from Kara. 

“Lex used to tell me all about his dreams, and I believed in every one of them,” Lena softly discloses, her eyes greener than the seas and filled with peril and monsters, just the same. “He would always do something to get me to cry and then hold me afterwards. It made me _his_ entirely. I was so grateful to him. He promised me a safe and happy home in the future, and I was so distracted by his stories I forgot that he had done anything to hurt me in the first place. I know you’re not like Lex, but I want you to swear that you aren’t going to lie going forward. Don’t make me believe in you again and then disappoint me.” 

“Lena, I won’t,” Kara sighs and cants her head back in distress. “Lying goes against everything I am, and the longer I kept my secret from you, the more it destroyed me inside. It felt like I was cheating on you, as weird as that might sound — like I was the terrible husband with a mistress and two kids on the side, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Except I didn’t choose the mistress. I didn’t choose to have super powers or _this_ — this other life, but if you ever found out about it, I believed it would be worse than the messiest divorce. I swear to you that nothing like this will ever happen again. Why would I ever want to lie to you when I can be honest with you about everything now?” 

Lena knows Kara is being genuine — can see it in the shimmer of her eyes, and the way her lips press together, and how she sits like she’s desperate to give affection.

“I can’t wait to call you up, and tell you about my day in annoyingly specific detail, even if that’s so mundane,” Kara continues, and picking up a journal at the top of the stack, she flips through and earmarks a specific entry. “Whenever you read these, start with this one, okay?” 

Kara moves as if she’s planning to go, and Lena reaches out to grab her hand. “Are you leaving?” she asks, instantly cranky, not for reasons she will acknowledge to herself, let alone to Kara.

“No, I was just going to put my mug in the sink,” Kara sheepishly explains, craning her neck as she glances around the chic apartment and takes it all in for the first time. 

Lena gestures for Kara to go ahead, although she would normally be a good host and take the mug to the sink herself. She sits cross-legged on the sofa and combs her fingers through her flat hair.

Kara isn’t gone long — just long enough for Lena to fuss with herself and fix her clothes out of habit. She turns on the television while she waits, only to find that the news is covering a story about Kara’s identity. Alex is still trying to figure out a way to harness the tech safely and wipe everyone’s memories that Kara is Supergirl. 

Wandering back in, Kara sees herself on the screen, along with clips of her fighting Leviathan goons. She looks maddened in those clips, like a completely different person. 

“I was angry,” Kara announces, hanging her head as she sinks down next to Lena. “Leviathan came after my home, my family, and I’m not going to stop until I bring their last leader to their knees.” 

There’s something about the way Kara speaks that sends a chill down Lena’s back, as if she’s gotten her first glimpse of the Kara she has read about in the newspapers.

Kara’s been irreversibly changed by these recent events, Lena realizes — Kara is a little less light on her feet now, and underneath the surface lurks a strong and even dangerous energy. 

The news is discussing Supergirl’s heroics in a favorable tone, then it transitions to talk of Lena’s family.

Lena slips into a fugue state as she stares at a picture of her father. She’s managed to avoid seeing him in the news so far, but it’s the speculation of the newscaster about the ways Lionel abused her that completely causes her rift with the current moment. Her mouth is open because she needs air, needs to breathe, but she can’t.

The television goes dead, and she comprehends suddenly that it’s because Kara couldn’t find the remote or power button, so she resorted to ripping the wires out, which required a lot of reaching around, because the flat screen is attached to the wall. 

“We’re not watching this — this — _crap_ anymore,” Kara announces, placing a hand on her hip as she curses, and Lena marvels at how foul language still sounds so foreign on her. 

Kara strides forward and it seems almost like she’s going to pick Lena up, but she hesitates and hovers. “You should get some rest,” she whispers. “You look exhausted, Lena. Have you been sleeping enough?” 

Lena summons up the ability to nod, and scoots away from the couch and this closeness with Kara. She could easily nestle herself into Kara’s arms, but she ends up walking away instead. “I’m going to bed now,” she agrees, and it’s a lie — one that she justifies to herself because she needs Kara to go. 

Kara’s still partially crouched over the sofa, as if she’s stuck in the moment Lena moved away from her. “I’ll just see myself out then,” she mumbles. “Can I — can I stop by some day this week? Are you back at L-Corp yet? Even if you’re not, we could meet up for lunch?”

Lena commits to nothing and only waves her hand to accept. “I’ll text you,” she promises. “Thank you, Kara.” 

Expressing gratitude isn’t just about the lunch or future plans — it’s for all that Kara has done for her. 

It’s inadequate, but it’s all she can manage right now. She steps down the hall to her bathroom and runs the sink, tub and the water in the shower. 

Lena creates all the noise she can, because her heart is pounding and she just _knows_ that Kara is listening to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter moved the plot along quite a bit and hopefully no one is lost. I realize I skipped over the CoIE arc, but I'm going to include some flashbacks, or moments of reflection for Kara. I didn't want to include a lot of action sequences because I think the character-driven moments are more important. Do you want action sequences? 
> 
> Let me know specifically if there's anything you'd like to see in future chapters - I'll take it under consideration because I'm debating what to include and what not to include, or rather... how much detail I should put into certain specific things I want to do yet. Thank you for reading and for any thoughts you might share.


	19. Chapter 19

Kara tells herself she’s just patrolling National City, and there are enough frequent incidents for it to make sense. Except Kara’s patrol radius becomes smaller and smaller until finally she’s just zooming in loops around Lena’s new place. After a few passes around the building, she notices the lights are on, but they stay on late through the night.

The first night it’s easy to explain away, and then again on the second one, but after that she gets suspicious.

She would just check on Lena, but they’ve been texting a lot and Lena keeps asking for time. Lena confesses that she’s struggling with trying to resume any kind of normal routine, and claims she’s tired out every evening. 

That would be fine, if it wasn’t for the lights nagging at Kara and telling her that something isn’t right. 

“I don’t know how to help Lena,” Kara breathes out in Alex’s presence one day.

Alex is standing over a set of lenses which she’s re-configuring with J’onn and Brainy into a downgraded device to erase memories.

Neither J’onn nor Brainy are in the room, and that gives Alex the chance to offer sisterly advice. 

“Stop being a jackass, Kara,” Alex lovingly suggests, giving her a soft look. “What Lena needs is for someone to hold her right now while she copes with her trauma. I really wish she would decide to go to therapy, even if it’s not with Kelly. None of us are going to suggest it, because we know how Lena will react, but she’s just doing exactly what she did before and closing herself off. All I know is that she needs you, and _you_ really need her right now, too.”

Kara reels from that, her chin almost smacking against her chest from how fast she snaps her head down. “Of course I do, but why — why did you say it like _that_?”

Alex gives her a glare that warns her not to ask any more ridiculous questions. “You’re just as bad as Lena,” she grunts. “I’ve seen so many changes in you recently and it might help if you talked to someone about them, too.”

“I’m talking to you right now!” Kara points out, swinging her arms as she whirls around to follow Alex through the lab. “I just want you to tell me how I should handle this with Lena. I think I messed up again. The first time I saw her since coming back, I mentioned going on a date before we had even fully talked through our issues. We still haven’t _fully_ talked — “

“So talk, but also go on a date? It’s possible to do both,” Alex gently reminds her, clearly not understanding the complexities at play here.

“Yeah, sure — I mean, maybe.” Kara concedes, even though she knows that she has a long way to go with Lena before dating will be on the table. “I kinda took Lena on a date in the virtual reality, but I don’t think she had a good time.” 

Alex’s head whips around and she gapes at Kara. “You — _what_? Kara, that’s great — but why do you think Lena didn’t enjoy herself?”

“Apart from the fact that Lena was lying to me, and hiding her plan for dealing with Lex, it was something she said,” Kara considers as she tries to recall Lena’s exact wording. “She wanted to go somewhere with a bed. Either she was tired from staying up late the night before and watching documentaries, or maybe she just didn’t like the place I took her. But it’s not like I had many options—” 

Alex freezes and then bursts into laughter, slapping Kara on the shoulder. “Kara… Kara, let me get this right. She asked you to take her to a place with a bed… and you thought she wanted to take a _nap_?” 

Kara’s blank faced while she waits for Alex to explain what should really be obvious to her. 

“Okay, I’ve always suspected you were into women, but this really confirms it,” Alex declares and shakes her head. “Only a lesbian is capable of performing all of the crazy mental gymnastics it requires to convince yourself that your crush is just _platonically_ inviting you into bed. You get an Olympic gold medal for that one.”

Kara slouches and flushes brightly as she realizes that Alex is right. Then she pictures what might have happened between her and Lena if she had actually understood the request better. 

“I’m just going to… go walk off my shame,” Kara mutters and jerks her thumb in the direction of the door. 

Walking off her shame involves stopping by her ransacked apartment, which the DEO mostly cleared out to protect her after she was exposed. The place still contains some of Kara’s old junk. She finds an L-Corp badge on the floor, resting in a pile of unwashed t-shirts. Picking it up, she clips it in an awkward spot, right near the wing pin below her chin. 

Rolling up the sleeve to her suit, she glances down at the bracelet on her wrist that matches Lena’s and sighs. 

She launches herself into the air and flies over National City, which is undergoing construction everywhere, and she goes to the one place where it might be quieter. 

That’s when she spots Lena from afar: she’s all bundled up and wearing the most casual clothes Kara’s ever seen her wear. Black skinny jeans, a pair of sneakers that are not at all her style, and a warm coat that swims on her. For a change, there’s no make-up on her face, and she’s sitting on a park bench in the middle of the afternoon when Kara would have expected her to be at work. 

Lena is watching the ducks floating on the lake, and Kara gets an impulsive idea. She jets off to the nearest market to buy a bag of bird seed, then returns to the park and drops down in front of Lena’s bench. 

“Want to feed the ducks?” Kara calls, with a warm smile that takes over her whole face and makes her squint because of her high cheekbones. 

Lena glances up at Kara and her smile forms slower, but in that shy and delighted way that she misses terribly. 

Kara gives the bag of bird seed to Lena and they both stand in the grass, scattering it to the ducks and other birds that gather. 

It seems like they might have a pleasant afternoon ahead of them, but Kara senses a disturbance in Lena. She’s prepared for Lena to avoid talking about it, but she’s startled by what actually happens.

“I need to go to therapy,” Lena announces out of the blue as two fluffy ducklings snap at the pile of seeds she drops in front of them. “I haven’t been sleeping. I’m afraid, and it’s become too hard to face people again.”

The confession feels heavy in the air between them, and Kara remains silent because it seems like Lena might say more.

“I keep thinking about how this city and how everyone in it would be better off without me,” Lena whispers. “Every attempt I’ve made to do something good for mankind resulted in a large-scale catastrophe. I picture my father’s face, and the truth is, Kara, I’m just like him. I did what he did. In the virtual world, I put my own tech in Eve’s head to control her and to force her to pose as your sister. I kidnapped Alex. _What kind of a person does that_?”

Lena allows the question to hang and stares out over the lake, which reflects so much sunlight that it’s blinding. “I just — I came here today because I wanted to look at the lake,” she admits. “I always thought my mother drowned herself and I — I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking I should just — I should just — “

From the way Lena’s rapid explanations are flowing, Kara knows immediately what is on her mind, and her jaw falls open in shock and devastation. “No, _no,_ Lena,” she forcefully snaps. “We are going to get you help, okay? But that is never the answer.” She throws her arms around Lena, cradling her face against her neck and swaying to soothe them both. 

“Talking is,” Kara affirms, lifting Lena’s chin to look at her. “Talking, and feeding the ducks, and just being amongst friends, as hard as that is right now. We care—“

“I know that you all care,” Lena mutters, burying her face in Kara’s shoulder again. “I know that, because everyone told me back in the virtual world, but I continue to convince myself that those were all lies, and that ultimately everyone will either give up on me, or turn on me. And I deserve that, you know? That’s how it _should_ be—”

Kara almost flinches from how Lena speaks about herself, but she holds on tighter instead and kisses the top of her silky, dark head. “You’re wrong,” she whispers. “You’re lying to _yourself,_ Lena. You deserve happiness, and to feel safe and proud of who you are, because you’ve done more good than you ever did bad. You deserve so much love that it will make you sure beyond a doubt that it’s never going to be taken away from you. That it’s _unconditional_ love.”

Lena sniffs so softly that Kara almost can’t hear it and then she pulls back. For a precarious instant, Kara thinks Lena might walk away, but instead she sticks out her hand. 

Kara takes it, and together they stroll through the near-empty park in silence, amid yellow and orange leaves that fall from the trees. 

“I haven’t read your journals yet,” Lena admits as her feet crunch through big oak leaves. “I thought I was avoiding it because I didn’t want it to bring back painful memories, but really it’s because I’m scared to love you. I imagine there will be some unconditional love in those pages—”

This unguarded conversation continues to surprise Kara, but it’s this sudden revelation from Lena that makes her pause. _Lena is scared to love her? Why? Was it because Kara lied, or because Lena was afraid the love wouldn’t last? What if there was another reason?_

She stands stiffly, wanting to pose questions, and at the same time feeling too crushed to ask. 

“I’m going to read your journals tonight,” Lena whispers, as if she perceives some of the hurt in Kara’s eyes and posture. She glances from Kara’s tense shoulders up to her face, and then at the L-Corp badge on her suit. 

Kara lowers her gaze to the ground and bites down on her lip while she works out what to say. “Why are you scared?” she blurts stupidly. “Do I come on too strong?”

Lena actually laughs at that, tilting her head to the side in disbelief and narrowing her eyes at Kara. “Honestly I spent the last few years wishing you would come on much stronger,” she admits. “The reason I’m scared... it’s complex, Kara. I’d rather not get into it.” 

Kara experiences plenty of conflicting emotions from that information — but mostly she’s just frustrated to hear that Lena would have liked her to be more aggressive, and that now she’s made this whole topic off-limits. 

“That’s—that’s fine,” Kara stutters, enunciating her syllables awkwardly. “You’ve already shared a lot today. Maybe you’ll be ready to talk about it some other time.” 

A hot dog and pretzel truck is sitting by the street, and Kara stares longingly at the food because she’s stressed and wants to launch into all kinds of crazy love confessions. She needs three soft pretzels to shove into her mouth before she embarrasses herself. 

“You know what we need? A snack. I’ll be right back,” Kara mutters and zips across the park to buy a few treats. When she returns, Lena gives her a once-over.

Kara glances down at her suit to make sure she’s not covered in crumbs from the pretzel she’s stuffed in her face on the two-second flight over. 

That’s when she hears Alex’s voice buzz in her ear. “Kara, one of our agents spotted the Leviathan leader called Whaler. Can you get there?” 

Kara frowns and passes all of her soft pretzels over to Lena. “I have to go,” she sulks. “Some Leviathan business I have to handle. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

Lena seems overwhelmed by the armload of food. “I’ll just—give these out to children,” she decides. “Good luck and stay safe.” 

Kara nods, and there’s a moment where she knows they want to hug, but it’s her fault they can’t when Lena can barely carry all of the food. 

Crouching down and then launching herself into the air, Kara shoots across the city and listens to Alex’s instructions on where to go.

Whaler’s down by the docks, harnessing energy to knock people into the water. Kara pulls the victims back out before the tide drags them under, but Whaler is cackling as he continues to toss others into the depths. 

Kara speeds up to save them and then drops down in front of the villain. She goes at him full force, right through his energy shields. If it affects her at all by walking through prematurely, she could care less. She greets Whaler with her fists.

He retaliates and summons electricity in his hands, but instead of throwing it at her, he tosses it like a crackling beach ball in the direction of a crowd. To save them, Kara needs to take it straight to the chest. It hits her and she feels the impact, even if it fails to sear through her. 

Whaler keeps up his antics, and as he targets a little girl, Kara loses it. 

This reminds her of recent fights on two other earths, where Leviathan heavily focused on massacring families. She pictures a child she saw disintegrated and it almost slows her down, but instead she moves and eats the other energy ball to the face. _It doesn’t stop her._

In an eye blink, she’s latching onto Whaler and plunging him deep down in the sea, far enough that they will be out of range of citizens. 

She’s unhinged as she yanks him above the surface again, flies him off and pummels him in the air. “I’m going to wipe you off the face of this earth and every earth. I’m going to end you!”

He looks up at her and grins, so smug as he croons, “Nay, my dear, don’t you understand? Didn’t you figure out why we used that core reactor on your earth and blew it up? We used our technology to expand the universe, to create other New Earths, where we will always reign supreme. Once earth exploded, we used the raw matter to shape our new worlds. The only reason your earth still exists is because it is necessary for balance. The Anti-monitor acted as your intercessor and restored it, as part of a deal with his other Half—”

Kara didn’t understand any of this at the time of the explosion, but then again she had been distraught, half-dead, and losing blood while watching these events unfold. While watching her world blow up. 

It was after earth-jumping with Superman at the end of a rough battle they had only won because of Kara. 

Clark insisted on taking her home. 

She had been too weak to fly and her cousin had scooped her up, despite her protests. All of her fear and fury over potentially losing Lena had made Kara a reckless fighter, and she did the most damage to their enemies, but also took more risks than anyone. Leviathan's forces had brought her down. 

Just as they were about to enter their own atmosphere, their earth spontaneously exploded. 

They had no choice but to seek refuge back on another earth. 

Kara was inconsolable and even _insane_ in her misery. 

She had spent four days in the darkness after that, hoping that her body wouldn’t restore her cells without the sun. It was like subjecting herself to the phantom zone, only she stayed awake all of that time, incessantly spinning the bracelet on her wrist. Reliving memories of Lena, Alex, her mother, and all of her friends. 

Kara comes back to the present moment, long enough to secure her hand firmly around Whaler’s throat. She thinks of several sinister things to do to him, but she’s inspired by what she saw happen to Lena in the virtual reality. Seeing Whaler’s particles separate like that seems it would be ideal, because nothing except a major shift in reality would be able to put him back together again. 

It’s not that she contemplates this for long. It’s much more of an impulse than a pre-meditated action when she lets Whaler go, and he summons a different type of energy sphere to break his fall. She could easily gather him back up and take him into the DEO, but she uses her own lasers on it, and charges it with enough radiation for a minor nuclear event. 

Whaler is gone before she can think to stop, to reconsider.

And that’s when Kara knows she has a real problem.

Kara doesn’t call Lena after dealing with Whaler. She goes straight back to the DEO and tells Alex what happened.

Alex already seems to know, but Kara still explains all of the details, and why she feels unfit for duty right now. 

“I should have — I should have listened to you, Alex, about talking to someone,” Kara whimpers out. Alex envelops her in a hug that for a change she doesn’t want. She very gently shrugs it off and fat tears roll down her cheeks. “I don’t want hugs. You shouldn’t be comforting me right now. I’m becoming someone _awful_ and the worst part is — it felt so instinctive. I didn’t even second guess myself. I just acted.”

Alex seems to think she was simply defending herself. But there is another layer to how Kara behaved that terrifies her. 

“Kara, what you’ve experienced recently is not something you can expect to brush off any time soon,” Alex jumps in, and puts a hand on Kara’s shoulder to prevent her from moving around so much. “I want you to turn in all of your devices and take some time off. We can handle any trouble that comes our way while you take care of yourself. Why don’t you go and visit Mom? Or hey, you can come sleepover at my new place for a few days. I’ll make you all of your favorite foods and we can play games.”

“I don’t know, Alex,” Kara mutters, pulling her phone from her pocket to check for any new messages Lena might have sent. “I ran into Lena after I left earlier and um — I shouldn’t tell you what she said – because she probably meant it to be private, but I’m really worried. I want to stop by her apartment later. She was by the lake in the park and mentioned her Mom — “

“So she was discussing death?” Alex asks, too sharp for Kara to figure out a way to redirect this whole conversation. “Kara, answer me, or I’m going to assume the worst about why Lena was talking about that.”

Kara cringes, because she’s in no mental state to think of a lie that Alex will believe. “She kinda hinted at harming herself,” she mumbles, lip trembling. “She was fine when I left and overall the conversation was a positive one. She opened up to me a lot, Alex. I don’t know what to do. On the one hand I feel like I shouldn’t have said anything to you, and on the other, I feel like we need to do more to help Lena.” 

Her own hypocrisy registers shortly after. 

She thinks about how low she felt in the aftermath of seeing earth’s explosion. 

In the past, she’s been in the same mental place as Lena, but she doesn’t feel that way now. So why needlessly worry about it? Why focus on it at all?

Alex reaches for the phone and Kara can tell without using her super-hearing that she’s on with Kelly. 

Pacing around with the cell to her ear, Alex says, “Kel, can you please just check in on Lena? Just — casually. Do it as her friend, not her therapist. We’re worried about where she’s at mentally after this whole ordeal.” 

Dropping her voice lower, Alex also adds, “And maybe you could stop by at some point and have a chat with Kara, too.”

“I’m not about to violate Lena’s patient confidentiality, but I’m just going to say that Lena already phoned me,” Kelly replies, and now Kara’s fully eavesdropping, and not bothering to hide it. 

“Our girl’s gonna be alright,” Kelly insists, her voice soft and convincing enough for Alex, if not for Kara. “I really would love to sit with Kara and talk to her, but only when it’s _her_ idea. Okay? I was also thinking we should do what we had been discussing, and get everyone together for a group session.” 

None of this makes Kara feel better, for some reason. 

Kara isn’t completely certain that it’s a good sign that Lena is voluntarily seeking therapy. She only hopes that somehow Kelly is right and will be able to help. 

Lena prepares for her first real therapy session with a shot of scotch and a xanax that was never prescribed to her. They hit her hard, to the point that she doesn’t feel like she can speak in coherent sentences. It’s not like she knew what to expect, because while she’s aware of the chemical compound of the drug, she’s never taken it before - or mixed it with alcohol. 

The effects only wear off a _tad_ by the time Kelly knocks at her door. Lena succeeds in waving her into her apartment, just as breezily as she might have invited a client into her office back when she was a composed business woman. At least she looks just as sophisticated in her suit and manolo blahnik heels. 

She has Kara’s journals sitting in the big armchair where she’s practically been living since she moved into the new apartment. They’ve become almost a security blanket of sorts, even though she hasn’t read a single word. 

When Kelly sits across from her in another seat, Lena scoops the journals up and reluctantly puts them aside. 

“So, I can’t sleep and I was hoping maybe you could - umm - prescribe me something for that,” Lena begins, and she really has the audacity to think she’s doing well so far, in this first thirty seconds. 

Except Kelly’s staring at her dubiously, like she already suspects Lena of trying to be avoidant. “We can discuss medications,” she nods. “But I’m reluctant to do that right away since we’re still doing follow-up assessments on you after your surgery.”

_Right. So. Fuck. It might not have been the best idea to take that xanax._

Lena fixes a fake smile onto her lips, lifting both of her eyebrows. The xanax might stay in her system for a few hours, or days, as these drugs have longer half lives than most. She’s glad she doesn’t have another assessment scheduled for this week.

“I was thinking we might try EMDR,” Kelly proposes and holds out a pamphlet with some information. “Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It’s a cognitive therapy, which helps with accessing the traumatic memory network in your brain. It requires less talking. But on the other hand, if you’re open to talking, we could try that, too.” 

Lena would rather pass on all of it, but explaining why she wants to pass is a challenge by itself. “Maybe — maybe I just need some time to think about the options,” she manages to finally say. 

“Look, Lena, I can tell you’re uncomfortable,” Kelly quietly intones and sits forward in her seat, then drags it closer. It makes for a nice, quiet therapy setting, one that shouldn’t cause Lena to panic. 

“Let me just start by asking you a few questions,” Kelly requests, and because that doesn’t feel like therapy to Lena, she believes she can deal with that.

“Sure,” Lena nods, unaware of how she places her hand casually on top of Kara’s journals for comfort. “That will be fine.” 

Kelly notices the books right away and gestures at them. “Are those your journals?” she asks. “Did you think that maybe it would be easier for me to read them?”

“Oh — no, actually — these belong to Kara,” Lena explains, the spot between her eyes crinkling as she transfers both volumes onto her lap. “She gave them to me.”

Kelly blinks as though she finds that intriguing, but she doesn’t comment about the journals. “Would you like to talk about Kara at all?” she asks. “Maybe we could start there and then get a little deeper into your history. What feelings do you associate with Kara currently?”

Lena thinks she might lie, but then that would defeat the whole purpose of this session.

“Fear,” Lena softly confides and a brief flash of terror lights up her eyes. “Kara was the only person I had a healthy, normal relationship with, and I’m afraid I won’t ever get that back. You’ve already seen that Kara dreamt about being with me, but also having a family together. I don’t know how to be part of a family. I don’t think I know how to love, not the way other people do--”

Her eyebrows twitch together and she sits in perplexed silence as she realizes this is helpful. She is voicing some of her insecurities, and if she can do that, she might be able to discuss them with Kara. 

Kelly’s compassion shines through in her soulful, dark eyes. “Why do you think that, Lena?” she whispers.

Lena shakes her head, because that is much harder to express. She can’t count the reasons, since she just assumes she was born this way – that it’s the defective, Luthor side of her that makes both giving and receiving love very difficult for her. 

If not it’s an aspect of Lena’s nature, then it’s certainly the outcome of her environment. It’s the abuse she’s suffered from family, all of pain she’s endured at the hands of the people she knows – and the failed romantic relationships that convince her that she is not like others when it comes to love. 

Love has been rare and precious in her life, and hardly anyone has given it to her without ulterior motives or an agenda. 

She will forever be suspicious of that word.

Kelly recognizes Lena is struggling with giving a response, and poses a totally different question. “What does love mean to you, Lena?” she asks. “What does it entail when you love someone? How do you show it?”

“It – it involves being truthful – completely yourself with that person,” Lena replies, sounding like a child at school who is too timid to answer the teacher. “Kara never did that with me, but I _never_ – I was never completely myself with her, either. There’s so much I haven’t told her, really simple things about myself – but also more serious things.” 

“So, maybe what we want to work on together are some techniques for opening up to others,” Kelly proposes and raises a shoulder in a shrug, letting Lena decide where they are going to take the session.

“I don’t — I don’t think I want to,” Lena almost instantly states and pouts her bottom lip without an awareness that she’s doing it. 

“Because it feels too risky?” Kelly guesses and squints at her, showing no judgment - just quiet curiosity. “You just said that love, to you, is when people are honest with each other. And I assume you want to be able to express love. How can we help move you along to that personal goal, where you are at ease with yourself, and able to share with others?” 

“I can’t — I can’t ever do that,” Lena states seriously, tucking an arm around herself and taking a deep breath as her anxiety rises. The xanax seems to be suppressing it, but she still feels lightheaded. “That’s why I can’t love Kara, why I shouldn’t. I can’t talk to her about — I just – _can’t_ – “

She starts breathing like a hand is on her windpipe, stopping her from saying another word. This a panic attack and she needs to get away from this conversation. Suddenly she’s standing up, except being on her feet doesn’t last long. Her heel snags on something and she drops onto the carpet. 

Curling her knees in on herself, she sits up but stays down on the floor. Kelly crouches beside her, whispers calming reassurances, and asks if it’s okay to touch her. 

Lena gently shakes her head to decline, and remains in her hunched, tight ball. 

After the panic attack, Lena sees Kelly out with the promise of making another appointment. She drinks the rest of a bottle of white wine in her fridge. It numbs her senses even more, long enough for her to lie listlessly on the couch for a few hours.

Later that night, Lena puts on a new pair of pajamas — a plaid sleepshirt that she had picked up when she bought comfortable shoes on the way to the park earlier. 

The woman at the shop must have thought she was insane, walking in with Prada heels on, ripping them off and leaving them on the floor of the department store. She had bought an entirely new outfit at random, along with these pajamas, only because they reminded her of Kara. 

She might have been curious to see how it would feel to sleep wrapped up in her best friend.

_Best friend._

She scoffs at her own thoughts, even though it’s her own fault that’s all she will ever be to Kara.

As she’s putting lotion all over her elbows and arms, she stands at the window and glances out at the city. 

On the building across from her, she notices Kara — feet dangling and swinging in the air, sandwich in her mouth, an entire box of donuts at her side. She has a wounded gleam in her eyes, but still that naturally bright aura about her that Lena is so drawn towards. 

Kara notices her just as she’s licking the frosting off a glazed donut. It’s endearing, the way she blushes in horror and drops the treat off the edge of the building. Gathering up her meal, she flies to the balcony and lands on the railing. 

Lena opens the balcony door and laughs, “What are you doing? Having a picnic on my neighbors’ roof?”

Kara seems like she might come up with a creative excuse, but instead she hops down and just admits, “Yeah, I was. I had been planning to stop by afterwards.” Her eyes roam over Lena in the plaid sleepshirt and her lips part in appreciation.

It makes Lena feel shy, in a way that she’s never been shy before, not even with one night stands or in previous relationships. 

“I — I actually hoped I could spend the night in your guest room,” Kara stutters, inconspicuously glancing behind Lena at her bed, which has a light blue bedspread and plenty of huge fluffy pillows resting on top of it. 

Lena hadn’t furnished this part of the apartment. It seems like her mother still thinks of her as she was at age sixteen, based on some of the decor choices. It’s on her to do list to re-decorate.

“You want to sleep over?” Lena asks anxiously, wondering if she can take the chance of Kara observing her evening routine, or hearing her scream in her sleep from a nightmare. 

Kara has already noticed the loaded gun on Lena’s nightstand. 

“I had — I had a bad day,” Kara whispers, as if she’s frightened to elaborate on why, but she just hopes that Lena will understand. 

Lena gathers her in a hug instinctively, and when she hears a cry catch in Kara’s throat, she holds on and rubs her back. There are no tears when she moves away, and Kara is bravely jutting her chin. 

“I’ve been staying overnight at the DEO most of the time, and I have this little house I’m going to be renting for a few months. It’s a nice place, actually, but I didn’t want to go home alone. Alex told me I could stay with her tonight, but I don’t want to answer all of her questions.” Kara stares down at her feet and nervously spins the bracelet on her wrist — which is one exactly like Lena’s own, but that she hadn’t noticed before. 

Lena has never taken hers off. 

She can’t help but wonder if she’s responsible for Kara’s pain in some way, but why would Kara come to her if that was the case? 

“You can stay here. You can always stay here,” Lena asserts, and she goes to her closet to find other pajamas, which she hands to Kara. These are slate grey, and Kara accepts them - and it’s strange how they have stumbled into this night of swapping styles.

Kara goes into the bathroom to change and Lena slides into bed, expecting that Kara will just head down the hall as soon as she’s dressed.

Instead Kara stands in the middle of the carpet while she ties her hair in a bun, and continues to hover awkwardly. “Can I — can I actually sit for a little while?” she whispers.

There’s plenty of room in the bed, and although Lena should know better than to do this even once, she pats the sheets and Kara hops into bed next to her. 

Lena picks up a book she’s been trying to read. Usually she would use her tablet in bed, but she hasn’t touched it since being deemed fit to work. She’s been delegating responsibility out to her staff and hasn’t even stepped foot in her office once.

Kara smushes her lips together and glances around, then back at Lena.

“Did you want to talk?” Lena asks. 

It’s her assumption that Kara doesn’t want that, considering she didn’t want to be around her sister and hasn’t volunteered an explanation of why her day was so awful. 

Kara hesitates, conflicted enough that Lena sets her book aside and snuggles into her blankets. She folds them over Kara, too, and faces her as they both lie down together. 

“I don’t feel like myself anymore. Not when I’m fighting members of Leviathan,” Kara reveals, her bright blue eyes filled with sorrow. She’s clutching the edge of a pillow and then she lets go, moves her hand to Lena’s face. “I have this rage inside of me, because — because of what they did to you. Because of all the destruction they caused. Today, I killed someone, not just to defend myself. I had a choice and I could have brought him into the DEO. We could have interrogated him or locked him up, but I — I had this split second where I wanted to obliterate him and then I _actually_ did it.”

Lena processes all of this at a delay, because she would never have thought Kara to be capable of killing under circumstances where it isn’t strictly necessary. 

This just shows Lena how deeply Leviathan has affected Kara’s mental state, but it also is a relief that they are discussing it. 

Kara trusts her and has come to her for compassion and help.

Lena slides her arms around Kara’s back, determined to alleviate her fears. 

“Kara, look at me,” Lena softly demands, locking eyes with her and leaning forward so that their foreheads are touching. “This was an impulsive act, one that happened in the middle of a fight. I can already tell how much it’s weighing on you, but you are not someone who takes any joy out of killing. This may have broken your own superhero code, but I know you.”

Kara stares at her, unblinking and hanging on every word she says, taking it to heart.

“I know the goodness in you,” Lena fiercely conveys. “I can see how frightened you are to lose everything again. Your world, your family. I don’t blame you for doing what you did, because I would have done the same thing. It doesn’t make it right. I get why this act feels so horrendous to you. On the other hand, I also know you’re going to have to accept it, and use all of the strength you have inside to find your way back to being the woman you’ve always been—”

“Lena,” Kara interrupts, eyes drowning in tears as she attempts to speak and only succeeds in making a strangled noise. “The fight was _over_ when it happened — when I killed him. I had _won._ And maybe there’s even a part of me that’s _not_ sorry I wiped out another member of Leviathan. Because I love you, and they _violated_ you. They chose you as a child, and through your father, they prepared you to be their — their puppet. I have no doubt that they’re just biding their time before they come after you again.”

Lena’s heart goes still, both because Kara has thrown out the word love again, and because she’s been obsessing over the possibility of an attack since moving into her new apartment. Her entire place had even been rigged with traps before she decided to invite Kelly over for that therapy session. There are still conveniently concealed weapons around in case she needs to defend herself from intruders. 

“You’re never going to eliminate every threat against me,” Lena replies, her voice soothing, in spite of the topic. She dodges any talk of her father or Leviathan and only speaks very generally. “Another attack is inevitable — if it’s not from one enemy, it will be another. At least living in constant terror as a child prepared me well for adulthood. I’m accustomed to the worst. I’m _expecting_ it. If you wake up in the middle of the night and wonder why the lights are on, that’s why. Readiness and fear.” 

She tries to make it sound like a joke, and even manages a flicker of a smile, but Kara takes it seriously. 

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m going to defend you, Lena, with everything I am,” Kara vehemently states and her eyebrows curve in distress. She strokes gently Lena’s hair away from her face and determination brings a hardness to her jaw. 

Lena has no doubt that Kara means it, but with the way things currently are, she expects it to take a great toll on Kara. She shakes her head, stern-faced in her refusal. “I’m fine,” she states. “You should head to bed now, shouldn’t you? It’s been a rough day. Sleep will help it.”

Turning onto her other side, Lena flicks off the switch on her lamp and settles in for the night. She feels Kara shift and stand up, then hears her pad to the door. 

Leaning against the frame, Kara lingers in the bedroom for a moment. “Thanks for letting me stay,” she whispers, and Lena wonders if she had been about to say something else, but before Lena can ask, the door shuts. 

Lena cries in her sleep, hot tears that pool in the corners of her eyes until she wakes. The nightmare she’s having at least isn’t a thrashing one, but she is groaning — loud enough that Kara speeds into her bedroom. She wakes up, but still feels like she’s dozing as Kara flips a dim light on and sinks onto the bed next to her.

Kara’s searching her for any sign of injury, and Lena only realizes that after she wipes her face. Her eyes are still bleary from sleep, and she’s out of it — so out of it that she curls into Kara. 

They don’t have a conversation about this, and thankfully Lena doesn’t have the energy for doubts or resisting comfort, because the way Kara holds her is perfect. Kara’s so warm and her mere touch sends small pulses of delight through Lena’s skin. 

She wakes up around noon, to the sound of her cell phone repeatedly ringing and to Kara spooning her—arms loose around her waist, face nestled by the nape of Lena’s neck. 

They immediately pull back from each other, fixing their hair and self-consciously glancing away, as if they don’t know how they found themselves in bed together. Lena grabs her phone, not bothering to look at the contact information before answering.

“Lena,” Alex says rapidly, panic in her voice. “How are you? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. Have you heard from Kara at all?”

“She’s here,” Lena responds without truly thinking about how groggy her voice sounds, or how suspicious it will be to just pass the phone to Kara. But that’s what she does — it’s the easiest way of scooting out of bed and ignoring this whole awkward situation she created in the middle of the night.

“Uh—Alex—hi,” Kara blurts, then grinds her teeth together and places a hand on her forehead while she closes her eyes for a few seconds. “I’m fine. “I spent the night at Lena’s place. I mean — we talked — and nothing else happened. But I stayed here. She has a really great guest room, did I mention? So, um — what’s going on?”

Lena can no longer hear Alex, but she can assume this is just related to the events of the last day or so, and based on the way Kara’s cheeks flame in humiliation, she can also guess that Alex commented about their little sleepover. 

Kara spends the next several minutes making plans with Alex and then drags herself out of bed. 

By then, Lena’s already grabbed her clothes and changed in the bathroom. 

She ends up in the kitchen making lattes, pretending with herself that Kara has only just shown up, and she’s doing nothing more than offering her friend a cup of coffee over lunch, just like she normally would. 

Of course nothing is normal now, and may never be. She’s convinced herself of that again when Kara suddenly walks in behind her. 

“You okay?” Kara asks. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

Lena comes to a dead stop mid-turn. 

Kara has helped herself to Lena’s clothes, and she’s chosen a _suit._ It’s a navy blue suit that Lena has never worn, and instead of buttoning it, Kara’s left it open over a pale blue button-up. 

Lena drops both of the coffee mugs, and if not for Kara’s fast reflexes to catch them both, she would be scalded. 

As it is, she’s feeling absolutely _hot_ from seeing Kara in this outfit, and she stares in a really obvious way. 

Kara slings the mugs effortlessly onto the counter and then she laughs at her own appearance. “Hope you don’t mind,” she blushes. “I’m kind of tired of the Supergirl look. I couldn’t find any of your casual clothes, and I’m really not in the mood to wear a dress.”

“You can have that,” Lena enthusiastically blurts out, scrunching her brow as she continues to stare in awe at Kara. “It’s my gift to you.”

Kara beams at her and chuckles again—that happy noise that brings so much joy to Lena’s heart. “Wow, thanks,” she replies. “I can totally just take it for dry cleaning and then return it, you know.”

“No, no, it looks like it was made for you,” Lena adamantly insists, waving her hand up and down over Kara. 

Picking up her latte, Kara takes a big sip and leans against the counter. 

“Do you want waffles?” Lena offers, grabbing the iron and the items she needs to whip up a quick batter. “I’ve actually never used this. I usually just go out to breakfast when I remember to eat it. Then again, it’s lunch time, so I guess we’ve already missed breakfast, but I can still make you the waffles, or anything you want, really—”

She’s rambling and falling all over herself because Kara looks so damn _good_ in that suit. It’s not fair, the way it renders her practically stupid. 

Between the suit, the fantastic night’s sleep, and the fact that they haven’t started their day with an uncomfortable talk or tears, Lena is in a better mood already - even if she feels she has no real right to be.

“Why don’t we go out and grab something?” Kara asks, already putting the ingredients back in the pantry. “I thought maybe if you aren’t busy today, we could spend it together. I have a plan.” 

“Sure,” Lena readily agrees, and as she rushes to get her coat, she has an epiphany: this feels like it could be a date.

She rationalizes it this way: they haven’t used that word, so maybe it’s not a date. If Kara assumes it’s a date, or does anything to make it distinctly date-like, then Lena can correct her. 

Given all of that, it’s completely harmless when Lena also asks Kara to wait a little longer, and slips back into the bedroom both to take a fast, hot shower and put on an entirely different outfit. She’s not contradicting herself _at all_ when she sprays perfume on her neck or applies a seductive shade of lipstick. 

_Right_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like some people might read this chapter and be like, "why is Lena suddenly doing all of these things, like opening up and trying therapy?" And "how can they have these light moments, when everything has gone to shit for both of them?"
> 
> Just want to say this isn't my way of slapping a bandaid on it.


End file.
